Breakfast

Can I start off this post by telling you about my experience so far just trying to write this post?
The baby needed fed just as I sat down to start this post. So, like a good mother (which I try to be, but often fail), I fed my child. As she finishes, I noticed her diaper was pretty wet and she had spilled something on her outfit, so I figured I better change both. As I went to get up out of my rocking chair (having placed the laptop computer on the floor before I started her feeding), I somehow hit my cup, filled with soda. And don't ask me how the next part happened, but it managed to catapult itself from behind me on the table to in front of me. All over the computer, the floor and the rocking chair (with which my butt was no longer sitting). What? How did that happen!?!
Ok. Put the baby down (her diaper and clothes are now more of a mess then they were when I started to get up to change her). Run into the kitchen. Start drying the computer (honey...the computer is ok or I would not be able to write this blog...settle down!). Then dry up the soda on the floor. Mop the floor. Warn my older child who has now woken up with all the commotion, not to get off the couch, from where she was napping. The floor is freshly mopped, because yes, even mommy's spill sometimes. Change the baby's outfit and diaper. Take a deep breath and try again!
So here goes:
Since my oldest started preschool I have attempted to go out for breakfast once a week with some other mom's for some girl time. My baby always goes with and is usually in a great mood and I usually get comments like,"Oh wow! She's so good and so happy and so well behaved."
USUALLY is the key word!!!
One particular day. I was having a wonderful breakfast with three great friends! One of which was a little concerned about how her girls might act at this "nice restaurant" that we went to. I kept reassuring her that they were terrific (and they were!). I had gotten my sweet baby a piece of toast that she could feed herself and keep herself entertained with. It worked. She was so quiet and well behaved. A little to "well behaved."
Finally I thought I should pay a little attention to her. I went to pick her up out of her highchair and noticed she might have been a little too close to the table after all...

If you look close enough. You'll notice first of all the guiltiest face you've ever seen in your life! And second the most embarrassing bite marks across the table we were enjoying breakfast at!
Clearly my little, sweet, innocent, quiet girl...wasn't eating the toast I had gotten her. She must have thought there was a greater deal of fiber in the table the restaurant provided instead.