Between a Rock and Hard Place

There is one important thing I have learned about being a Mom -- I am my children's rock even when I feel like I am loose gravel.

Yesterday, Dan and I just didn't feel very good. And it was raining. Ughh -- the boys were stir-crazy and we were slugs.

Back in our pre-children days, we would have slept in until at least 10am, hauled over to First Watch (our favorite breakfast place) and had Eggs Benedict while lingering over the Sunday paper and coffee, gone home and lazied around on the couch while watching the movies that defined our teenage years (and will make us seem "old" to the boys), and then we might have gotten some Thai take-out for dinner before rolling into bed around 9pm.

But Moms (or Dads) don't get a "sick day".

It's kinda like having to follow the parent's version of the postman's creed ...

"Neither upset stomachs nor migraine headaches, sore backs nor lack of sleep shall stay these parents from the swift completion of their appointed five loads of laundry, three meals and two snacks, reading of countless books, and playing with Play-doh."

So, we were up at 7am ... playing with Little People, drawing pictures, playing with window gel clings, putting kids in time-out, and watching Finding Nemo for the zillionth time.

The boys had a great day even if Dan and I weren't at 100%. And that's what matters. Because in the end I would move mountains to make my children healthy and happy.