Breathe...

I have a three year old.

Anyone who has, or knows a three-year-old knows that this is all I need to say.

We were shopping, and those listening ears have been LOADED with potatoes this week. Not one statement I uttered this week has been responded to, unless contained "cookies" or "play trucks" somwhere in there, and even if it did, I just KNOW all he heard was, "wah-wah wah-wah COOKIES wah-wah wah-wah PLAY TRUCKS."

So today, at the grocery store, potentially a fun excursion most weeks, I was at the end of my rope, which has been fraying rapidly as the week's progressed. I was on my fifth round of counting to three to "not run in the aisles," when I saw the oncoming woman and her carriage swiftly avoiding the pint-sized tornado barreling toward her, on a tear.

I looked at her with what must have been a completely exasperated look. I was ready to howl. I was seeing red and bottling it.

She responded, "Breathe...I have two. Been there, done that."

If she had not been ushered in haste toward me by my guardian angel, I would be surprised. She surely was sent, and at just the right time.

I believe nothing is by accident, and there are no coincidences, so I take any exchange like that to heart. And I did, to my son's benefit. I can't say the rest of the trip was a walk in the park, but it kept me from losing it. So when we think we cannot handle another stick on the pile...

BREATHE...

We can. We have the resolve. We CAN do whatever that thing is, whether it's getting through the workout, dealing with a co-worker, or keeping our cool with our little ones.

Breathe!