"Mommy I need more milk."
"Mom I want Craisins in my granola."
"But Mom I wanted the BLUE bowl!"
"Dakota's scratching at the front door Mom."
"Can I have more honey on this yogurt?"
"Lijah's saying poopy Mommy."
"Ben wants his cup Mom."
"MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYY my hands are sticky."
The effort it was taking me to hold it together and not SCREAM at the kids to just sit in silence for one bloody minute must have been pretty obvious because as I was pouring the second round of milk I heard the Squirt quietly plead on my behalf, "God give Mommy patience."
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but God answered that little prayer and we all survived breakfast.