As my English muffin toasts, I notice we are out of cheese, honey, cream cheese, and jelly, all my go-to spreads in decreasing order of likeness. Meanwhile, my coffee is getting cold, my English muffin is slowly toasting north of comfortably brown, the microwave clock reads 7:15, and I have exactly one minute to eat in the breakfast lull before the storm. Sad face. Then, I turn to the cupboard and find a mini stockpile of a yummy natural peanut butter with flaxseeds. Score, except that I like my peanut butter dressed up and my go-to accompaniments (jelly and honey, in decreasing order of likeness) are gone. But in a moment of breakfast brilliance, I remember I have a jar of cocoa almond spread in the fridge. So this happened… I take the first bite, a sip of coffee, and listen to the early jazz station that my two year old daughter requested (love it!). My baby bangs a toy against the heater grate in time to the music. Happy face (despite the forty-five minute interval full of poopy diapers and changed outfits between when I made the breakfast and the now long cold one sitting in front of me). Seconds later, the two year old bangs a toy car against the grate and I can’t tell her to stop because I just commented that the baby looked cute banging her toy. The toddler swoops and swipes my English muffin (one bite in!). I’m just glad the banging stops. With my toddler’s hands and mouth occupied stuffing my breakfast in her face, it’s surprisingly peaceful and quiet. I can hear the music again. I take a sip of (cold) coffee and I’m content in this momentary lull. And now the baby cries; she wants to nurse. As I pick up her up, I notice the two year old threw her barrette down the heater grate (great). Cold coffee. Early jazz. Remnants of a cocoa almonut butter mash-up. The two year old just asked me if somebody is crying when she hears a beautiful trumpet solo. These are the days. Happy face.