It’s a new day, and I’m still here, thank God!

My three year-old charged into my room this morning before 7am, kicking the door open with her foot with such force that it slammed against the wall. She was happy to see me. And hungry. “Daddy” was snoring loudly from his used to be temporary abode in the guest bedroom and showed no signs of being ready to wake up and handle one very manically happy and hungry three year-old and one sleepy, grumpy 7 year-old, so I shuffled down the steps and into our freezing cold kitchen to make breakfast.

Did I mention the mini-stroke that I had three days ago? Actually, it was the least exciting ailment this year. Last September, shortly after moving into our new highly unaffordable “dream house” in the country, I experienced a cluster of tiny heart attacks that kept the ambulance circling our block for a few weeks. In and out of the hospital for most of the Fall, I was finally starting to feel confident again when the TIA pulled me right back in to the worried that i won’t be there for them mom mode.

By the way, my little heart attacks were NOT caused by a blockage, but rather by a phenomenon called a coronary vasospasm associated with a rare condition known as “Prinz Metal’s Angina Syndrome.” Most people with this weird little syndrome don’t actually have heart attacks-just chest pain–but I was one of the lucky 3 percent with the condition to actually have the blood supply to my heart shut down for long enough to cause a bit of damage. Three times.

So now I’m on calcium channel blockers, and according to my cardiologist, that should do the trick. If I don’t die from a stroke, that is. God forbid.

My kids are young, and I have so much to do. Like go downstairs again and make pancakes. Later.