It wouldda been a sick day

We kindof had a long night around here. Not a productive long night either, just a stressful one. Full of thoughts running through my head trying to figure out how I was gonna get everything done (I finally decided it isn't possible. Because there are ONLY 24 hours in a day!) and feeding my apparently starving child. (Seriously, the kid was up every 2 hours....what's the deal man?!?!?)

So this morning I didn't wake up early.

I didn't see the moonset or the sunrise.

I didn't go running.

I didn't even take a shower (until 11).

If I still had a job outside the home, I would've called in sick.

If I didn't have an adorable child who needs me for everything, I would've sat on the couch curled up in our sickie blanket watching Disney movies and eating ramen noodles. All. Day. Long.

If I didn't have a firm commitment to walking with Ashley every day, I wouldn't have left me house, or even opened my blinds.

As it is, I didn't call in sick. I "napped" (or slept in....whatever) with the earlier referenced adorable child until 10am. He cuddled me in my bed and whispered that he loved me in my ear. He told me he was sorry he was up all night and that he'd be good today so I could get something done. He told me he loved sleeping next to me because he knew he was safe there. He told me that not only am I a "good enough" mom, but I'm the perfect mom for him. And he told me he was glad I didn't have a job to call in sick to.  Amazing what one tiny hand wrapped around one gigantic thumb says, isn't it?
I didn't eat ramen, I ate spinach salad - because in order for 1 person to go through a Costco bag of spinach before it goes bad, a salad must be eaten each day.
I didn't watch Disney movies, I'm working and trying to schedule appointments for people to be visited (can we come visit you?!?!?! Please?!?!)

Fortunately my firm commitment to walking with Ashley stands, and we walked. And I talked. I'm not sure why she puts up with me....I chatter and whine and vent at her for a solid hour, then go home feeling much much better. I'm sure she listens to me chatter and whine an vent for a solid hour wondering why she does this to herself and goes home feeling better - because you know...at least she isn't me. How long do you think before she starts charging me for therapy?

It wouldda been a really great sick day.

Instead, it's just a normal average common not bad pretty good day.

I'll take it.