Learning retrospect in advance

I took the girls out for breakfast this morning, thinking it would be a fun change to our routine. We'd go to Dunkin' Donuts! They could order whatever they wanted! They'd have orange juice (which we were out of at home)!

Our sojourn started off less, well, positively than I'd hoped. J was a tired mess after a bad sleep, and K began to wilt as she waited for me to get us all out of the door. No, J, you can't bring Bunny. Pick someone else. Come downstairs now. Ok FINE, how about bring no one! We're waiting for you! Ultimately, I had to carry her downstairs, and she muffled a whine into my neck with each step.

On hearing that J would order a donut, K asked if she could have ice cream (since the shop is also a Baskin Robbins). Uh, hmm. I don't know - can't you just get your favorite muffin and save ice cream for tonight? How have I turned a trip to Dunkin' Donuts into a disappointment? We haven't even all been awake for 30 minutes.

JBL is moving around us through the kitchen. Did I remember the girls' vitamins? No, I'll put them in a sandwich bag now. At the mention of her calcium supplements, K's quiet displeasure fills the room, and J begins to poke fun at her. Wait, what? Yes, I made a full pot of coffee, and no I am not having any. But I'm going to a shop where they sell coffee! ALLRIGHT, I'll take a cup to go.

Finally in the car, we begin the eight minute drive down the road to our destination. We are stopped, however, for an additional 5 as we wait our turn to pass some road work. It is already hot - 84 and barely 8 o'clock. The air conditioning ruffles my hair as I contemplate the hazy atmosphere on the horizon. Here is the view eastward as we sit:
At last, we pull in to the parking lot. J has regained her composure and is chatting incessantly, and K has gone completely silent as she listens to music on her iTouch. I gather them both into the doughnut shop, and try to distract them from the long line at the counter. I am nervous, as I always am, that K is more unhappy than just tired. J is whimpering, "It's too early!' and is lifting her arms up for me to hold her. I encourage them to pick out orange juice for us all. K loves juice! J loves to help! But K tells me she doesn't want juice this morning, and J can't reach the juice - it's in the top shelf of the chill case. I could use a break here.

Ah, our turn! I order quickly and shuttle the girls to a table while I wait for my bagel/egg sandwich to be prepared. I wait for a moment more at the counter, then run back to the table to see that J can open her juice, and to encourage both to start eating without me. I am greeted by K, wearing a look of disdain and boredom combined, asking, 'Can I, like, get a napkin to eat this on or something?' And I burst out laughing.

'You are a complete stereotype, and I love you!' I shake my head and turn to get some napkins as she replies, 'What?' When I look back at her I see she is shocked and a bit hurt by my outburst. In the past she may have laughed with me - we used to make fun of teenagers together. That time is long-gone, I now see.

The morning got better from there, but it encapsulates my fairly constant struggle to smooth over the rough edges, both of the fragile-yet-ebullient 6-year-old and the fragile and somewhat sullen 12-year-old. Both are open to me, but both can snap at a moment's notice. This summer will teach me a good deal, I am certain, hopefully including new level of patience. Now if I could just look at situations in retrospect before they actually happen...