The transition from preschool classroom to Grandma’s car was going great- until it wasn’t.

You know. Change is hard. Especially if you’re 3 ½ (boy, let’s call him B) or 4 ½ (girl, or G) years old.

As every parent, grandparent, or caregiver knows, things with kids can change at the drop of a hat – or, in this case, an accidental head bump with a younger brother.

It’s common to see optimism as foolishness. Because not everything “works out”—at least, not the way we pictured it.

Our specific hopes and dreams may turn out to have been, well, incorrect.

Oh, no, not that!

Last week I experienced my first panic attack. Ever.

At least, that’s what the internet says it was.

All I know is: my body took over my brain. My heartbeat was too fast, too loud, too strong. My limbs were trembling. My mind and my heart were both racing; nausea took over my digestive system. I was one step away from asking my husband to take me to the Emergency Room – but I had no idea what they could have done for me. I would have voted for temporary oblivion.