My Purple Heart is silver

Last night, as Jeff was out late for a law firm shin-dig, I braved the "meltdown hour" alone. It seems that most evenings around 6 pm, both Oliver and Emma transform into their own personal Mr. Hyde and our house begins to resemble no-mans land. Food shrapnel covers the kitchen floor, a days worth of Lego lay about like dormant grenades just waiting to explode under your bare foot, and the ricochet of high-pitched whining deafens your ears and numbs all senses. Trying to clutch onto an ounce of sanity as both children scramble for the prime spot on Mamma's lap, 8pm (bedtime) seems to actually be getting farther away, not closer! Suddenly, with no warning the clouds part, and there is peace and sunshine on the battle field. It is 7pm. Oliver and Emma's cantankerous alter egos have faded back to the place from which they came. I soak-in the hour of mellow moods, hugs and kisses before helping my babies settle in for their slumber.

I could barely keep my eyes open as I cleaned off my war wounds of ketchup, boogies, spilled milk etc... I noticed from the corner of my eye something particularly alarming to me. Someone had presented me an award that I certainly did not anticipate. A whole patch of silvery gray hairs were sprouting up like a crown on my head! I was completely bummed out upon seeing them. I am only 28. Too young for gray hairs to be popping up in such large numbers! I thought for a moment, and decided that they were a hard earned reward for doing my best at raising a 1 year old and 2 year old. They are a badge of honor, and I will wear them as such.

That is... until Miss Clairol washes them away tonight.