It’s Midnight…Do You Know Where Your Cupcakes Are?

Last night, or rather, way early this morning, around midnight, I realized I forgot to make the mini-cupcakes I was planning to bring for Cooper’s class today. I got sucked into Twitter and Plurk for the n’th time this week and totally lost track of time. I figured at midnight that I was actually getting to bed early for the first time all week…but read Burgh Baby Mom’s post about homemade grilled pizza and thought, “OH CRAP!!!!”

I rushed through a few other computer-related things I needed to finish then went nuts.

• Pre-heated the oven, then saw the fine print on the cake mix indicating non-stick pans needed a lower temp.
• Mixed the eggs, water, and oil with the Funfetti cake mix by hand even though the mix called for an electric because I was terrified of waking up the whole house with my very noisy hand mixer. And I’m a rebel. No really, I am…went to TF South High School, home of the Rebels!
• I put the pan of mini-cupcakes in the oven, then realize I have NO idea how long to bake because the mix didn’t have time for mini-cupcakes. So I got to babysit the oven.
• Got Cooper’s cups of formula made for school while suspiciously eyeballing the rising cupcakes in the oven.
• Wiped down most of the horizontal surfaces in the kitchen. At least the ones not covered by dirty dishes or mail/papers.
• Since I got to babysit the oven, the dang timer went off three times and it is louder.than.sin.

I pulled them out and was arranging them in a dish to bring to the daycare when I heard Cooper fuss over the monitor. I froze…it was 12:30am. A minute later when he was done and quiet again, I realized that I had involuntarily hunched down behind the kitchen island and was holding my breath. I wonder what that says about my parenting. I mean, it made sense a few months back when I was putting some folded clothes away in his room and he stirred in his bed, that I dropped to the floor and crawled out of his room on my belly. A little extreme, but not for a mother tired of a baby getting up twice a night (at that point). Now that Cooper has been sleeping through the night since coming home from Chicago, I get a little testy when he rescinds on our agreement. And apparently it triggers some sort of Post Traumatic Stress response, as well.

The fiftieth time I checked on the little buggers…

No, I did not wipe down my stove…thank-you for asking.

YUM! Actually, I didn’t have a single one. And I did not frost them because while I love the teachers at daycare, I know that they stragetically give the kids the sweet treats at the end of the day, right before parents pick them up.