This morning I was forced to pull out the big guns. Prescription medication. This morning I'm laying with a pillow over my head, praying my meds will kick in so I can ship my kids to my parents' who are camping locally, when I hear Elise, "I did it myself, Amelia, help with the oven."
Wow. She made her own pizza. Like from scratch on a pita, with tomato sauce and cheese.
The good news? She's motivated and can be independent, whatever her status with snaps and hair brushes.
The bad news? She wants the oven on.