Kids tucked in for the night, I sit down to catch up on the lives of my few Facebook friends. I hear some crying or calling, not sure, but either way I have to get up to check. It's Talia. I kneel beside her bed and ask "Why are you crying", to which she replies "I'm sad that I made my bed so perfect today and now it's all messed up and I'll never be able to make it like that ever ever again". Ugh. Deep breath. I go through the "you should turn that frown into a smile and be proud of yourself" and "beds are meant to be slept in" and all my usual pep-talk-trying-to-get-her-to-stop-crying rolodex, but every time I say the word 'bed', she starts crying again. And making more snot. Then it comes to me. Me: "Talia, what if I make my wonderful pancakes, and use chocolate chips or blueberries to make a silly face and the pancake turns out sooooo perfect and I am sooooo proud and I put it on your plate and you smile and then eat it all up? Should I cry and be upset? Or happy that you loved it? If I only make perfect pancakes never to be eaten then you would starve! Pancakes are meant to be eaten just like beds are meant to be messed up." She laughed. Ding ding ding ding. Five tissues later, two hugs, three tickles, and a kiss 'goodnight' I leave her alone to sleep and feel rather proud of myself, I must say. About three minutes later I hear laughing ??? so I walk back to her room and find her laughing a silly belly laugh and she says "I'm thinking funny things". Ahhhh, sometimes all it takes is those 'light bulb moments' that save you from feeling sooooo defeated to thinking yah, sometimes I got it.