My chest tightens as electricity shoots through my neck into my shoulders. My heart beat races and my left eye twitches. I’m messing them up, my mind races ahead twenty years. They will be in therapy because I…I can’t do this. I see them in my mind’s eye, twenty years older, telling their counselors how much they hate me. My eye twitches faster. I take a deep breath and rub my temples. If only I could… But there is no time. “MOM! She stuck her tongue out at me,” one precious child bellows. “He kicked me!” another retorts. And …