It's not much to look at, I know. We've been going gangbusters around here - work is amping up more and more each day, Baa-ba is sick, the Bear is going through one of this amazing wonder weeks (wonder three weeks more like) and insists on yelling at everything, and my asthma means that the tiniest of colds leaves me wheezing when I walk.
I realised, at about 9pm, that it was pancake Tuesday and that it was the first one in the time we'd spent together that I hadn't whipped a batch up for my main man. So off the sofa, up to the stove and ten minutes later we had a couple of crepes in a cup each with a puddle of maple syrup and butter at the bottom.
It's not photogenic, but the fact that I managed to pull off our little tradition (albeit 13+ hours late) makes me feel like we've got this whole adulting thing under control.