My Warm Cup of Tea

I’ve now started typing and erased what I wrote 2 times because I don’t know where to start exactly. Or maybe it’s that I don’t know how to start. A warm cup of tea is more like a feeling than a thought for me.

A warm cup of tea, with a dollop of honey and a squeeze of lemon, can wake me up in the morning. It can start me off with a sort of calm energy that helps get this busy wife, mother, business partner out the door.

A warm cup of tea in the mid day can either be a pick me up when the 2 O’clock slump threatens to take over, or it can be a sort of calm in the midst of chaos if the day is out of control. A little honey, a little cream, sip until better.

Before bed, a warm cup of tea can soothe the soul, calm the nerves, quiet the mind, and allow me to wind down. One sip at a time, the worries of the day just melt away and I can fall asleep peacefully.

When ill, a warm cup of tea can soothe the sinuses, relieve a sore throat, ease an aching belly. A warm cup of tea between my hands can take the chill out of the air and bring me warmth from the inside out.

You know, as I’m writing this, I am deeply reminded of my husband and the many ways he encourages, delights, strengthens, and warms me. He is helpful to me, kind to me, and supportive. He is reliable, comforting, calming, energizing, and like having an extra set of hands, eyes, ears.

You are my cup of tea, Mr. Wonderful. I am thankful I have you. I choose you again and again and again. Thank you for always being there and for taking such good care of me.

warm cup of tea

(This post was inspired by the writing prompt posted at Write. Blog. Connect. You should take a moment to check it out.)


(My inspiration for this post came from this Writing Prompt over at Write. Blog. Connect.)

Cue the shrill voice. The panicked, “Mooooooom!” Followed by my heart thundering in my chest and sweat breaking out on my forehead. I cannot help but run to this sound of absolute fear and desperation. I’m clumsy and I’m bound to trip and hurt myself on the way, but I run anyway.

I round the corner, gripping the door jamb with my hand, preparing for blood, guts, or worse.

“Mom, she threw my toy at the wall,” said to me, in the shrill voice of my exasperated 10-year-old.

Panting, out of breath, and annoyed, I can rarely respond in kindness in these moments. Anything from dropping a sandwich, losing a toy, not having clean socks, to a busted lip, skinned knee, or bloody nose causes the same melodramatic reaction from my 10-year-old.

Everything that happens sounds like the world is ending. He is wound up tighter than I knew was humanly possible, and he cannot get through a single day without having some earth shattering moment that used to leave me feeling like the rug had been yanked from beneath me.

I warn him that “crying wolf” will eventually mean no one comes. I’ve threatened to take him to the trauma center to see truly traumatic, shrill-voice, panic worthy things, but I don’t believe I should make an example of other people’s trauma and pain in such a way. I’m at a loss for how to help him tone it down. I get the craziest looks in public for my dismissive, annoyed reactions – because when people hear him they become alarmed and think they are witness to a dire situation.

I’m not here to write about some fabulous advice I have, or to help other mom’s over this hurdle. I’m here to write about how lost I am in the middle of this. I prefer to keep things fairly even – mild lows, mild highs, nothing too catastrophic. I have a level head in the face of emergency, and I can usually think my way through anything. I do not know how to help someone who naturally panics all the time calm down, turn on their thinking brain, or function more rationally.

I hope my boy finds himself a long career on television, because he can over-sensationalize absolutely anything.

If you have any advice or suggestions for me and my melodramatic 10 yr old, comment below. I would love to hear your thoughts!