When Did I Lose My Mind?

Somewhere between driving home from work, picking up the kids, and then feeding them dinner, I discovered that I had already lost my mind. I knew my frustration level was high, my patience level dangerously low, and that if I stepped on one more Cheerio I wasn't going to be held responsible for my actions; yet, I thought, or at least would have liked to believe, that I was still in some kind of possession, however precarious, of my mind. But as it happened, I was not. Because when I did step on one more Cheerio, and when Hannah began jumping off the couch onto the coffee table, and Jacob continued to whine and cling to my leg, I had no resources on which to draw. I might have even taken the Lord's name in vain, while talking to my mother (a sure sign of mental cognition being AWOL). I looked around my house. It was a miracle the only thing I had stepped on was a Cheerio - there were so many other likely candidates: pieces of cookie and cracker, toys, magnets, misplaced shoes, etc. The counters were covered with dirty dishes, food that really needed to go back in the fridge ASAP, books, and general flotsam from who-knows-what-or-where. Chaos. Physically, things were a disaster. Behaviour-wise, the kids were falling apart. Mentally, I was losing it (okay, had already lost it). And the only solution that I could think of was to pour myself a stiff rye and coke. Which I did, promptly. And it helped! A lot. Then I got out the Electrolux and vacuumed up all those Cheerios and cookie crumbs and pieces of cracker. I also fed the kids some Arrowroots to keep them quiet and happy while I attempted to restore some semblance of order to the mayhem around me. I'm not sure when my mind returned exactly, but it was somewhere between the drink and starting to clean up. I'd like to think that actively working toward a solution to the chaos was what led to the mental recovery, but deep down inside I credit that drink. Because as soon as I finished it, I poured another. And now... I feel fine!