Mother-of -the-year Portfolio Update

My mother-of-the year portfolio is bursting at the seams these days. So many ways I am just rocking this mothering thing. So many reasons my kids will need intensive therapy.

My latest and greatest accomplishment culminated in an explosion in our kitchen.
It all started with the best of intentions. Kevin wasn't feeling well, the weather wasn't great, and we had several weekend hours stretching out before us. So I took one for the team, and told the kids to pick something out of the cookbook to bake.
A few things to note:
1. I don't bake a lot.
2. I don't bake a lot with my kids.
3. I am not patient.
But this day was different. This day I was patient. I negotiated a truce between Oliver and Ada. I let everyone have a turn. I didn't freak out when they made a mess. I let them stir. I used a happy voice. I was supermom. For a few brief and fleeting moments I was the kind of mom I dreamed I would be. And it was good. We baked the cake and ate the cake and it was delicious and I thought to myself "I'm not so bad at this mothering thing. In fact, I might be pretty good at it. And look at me! I'm being so patient!"
Glowing with pride, I stored the leftover cake in a glass pan on the stove top.
Fast forward 24 hours and you will find us all back in the kitchen. Only now it is way past lunch. We have been at the park and no one has had lunch, including myself, and I am on the verge of starvation. I start water for mac and cheese for Oliver and a boiled egg for Ada and steal a few moments of peace to eat a quick lunch when I hear a loud boom. And then screaming. And then Cambel yelling "get out".
Turns out I flipped on the wrong burner. And instead of boiling water I blew up the cake pan.
Glass was everywhere, including one or two pieces in the bare feet of children. There was general panic and alarm and so so much glass. It was such a shock and I was so relieved that I hadn't seriously injured anyone that I told the kids we were just going to pray and thank God we were all okay. Ada then retreated to some peace and quiet outside while I pulled the glass out of Cambel's foot and started in on the clean up (which took almost an hour). Oliver walked around saying "Oh God help us"  for awhile (side note: our windows were open and I am sure the neighbors were a mixture of alarmed and entertained at the sounds of chaos and prayer coming from our house) and I realized with such clarity that I had literally just blown up my crowning achievement. All my efforts at patience and appropriate maternal involvement were in about 1 million glass pieces all over my kitchen (and lets not even talk about the wasted chocolate cake).
Pride, my friends, truly does go before a fall (or in this case, an explosion). But it does make for some funny stories. And it is great material for your portfolio.