Oopsie in the bread

Today I decided Claire is like a shaken soda bottle.  You're thirsty, you want to open it, yet you know you will pay.  Claire lives on the brink of explosion, and we just never know when her lid will burst.  Usually, her explosions are of energy, or mischievousness.  Rarely, they are explosions of temper.  These are never fun, but we got one today!

We are out of bread.  We have had a Virginia blizzard this week, and I have not gone to the store.  I finally decided to make bread.  Joshua helped me - he seems to be growing up quickly.  Today after dinner he cleared the table, without being asked!  Anyway, of the three children, he was the only one interested in helping.  Claire wanted to practice ballet in the kitchen, which was fine with me, because our new kitchen is large and she was happily keeping herself busy.  She decided she needed a dance partner, so she got her new green Care Bear, whose name (ironically) is Oopsie.  She and Oopsie twirled in circles while Joshua and I measured, poured and mixed.

It would work this way: at the exact moment I lifted the beaters out of the bread dough, Oopsie sailed across the kitchen and landed perfectly in the bowl.  There was no teetering on the side, no clank as Oopsie hit the dough.  If I hadn't been watching, with my hands still on the beaters, I wouldn't have known how the bear ended up in the bread dough.  I had not yet added all the flour, and it was still very sticky.

The show must go on.  I scooped Oopsie out, rinsed him off and sat him aside to deliver to the washing machine, and Joshua and I continued making bread.  Claire, bored by the loss of Oopsie, started doing something truly obnoxious (I can't remember what!) so I gave her a time out on the stairs.  I told her to sit there until I came to talk to her. 

I then went back to bread.  James, who is rather spoiled, came over and demanded a snack.  I told him no, and then endured a two-year-old's temper tantrum.  I ignored him until he hit me, so I took him to timeout too.  I then went to talk to Claire, who turned her back and refused to talk to me.  I left her on the stairs and went back to bread.

Claire then decided that she really was ready to talk.  I told her she had to wait until I was available.  For whatever reason (think of the soda bottle) this set her off, and she began a huge temper tantrum.  I had to continually put her back on the stairs, telling her I couldn't talk to her until she calmed down and was obedient.  Apparently, this was way too much to ask, and she remained on timeout for a very long time until she decided to sit calmly on the stairs.

In the meantime, I ignored Claire's screams and shrieks, and Joshua and I continued making bread.  After a while, I realized James was still sitting on timeout in the corner of the dining room.  I felt like mother of the year!  I rescued him, and luckily he is a very forgiving little boy.   I can't believe he sat so quietly.

Shockingly, the bread turned out perfectly.  I think it is the best bread I've ever made.  Maybe Oopsie was the missing ingredient all along.  Or maybe my other bread has not had the prerequisite amount of tears shed into it.  Thinking of what an adventure such a small task can be, I realized.... this is why I don't make bread......