This morning I was promptly grabbed from sleep by sounds and smells and a wry face pushed up close to mine. "I am sick mom," Isaiah croaked at me. I lifted myself out of bed and walked with him to the bathroom. Then he vomited on my foot. It is times like these that I wonder if I should have followed my therapist's advice. If I had a dream board I could look at the magazine cutout of Rome and pretend I don't have vomit eking itself between my toes. Hindsight is a bitch. Today is a sick day. The rain and cold has kept us inside, so I looked for a solution. You have to have a solution when you have three intellectual tiny people who require all the stimulation. After I made Teddy Bear pancakes, I constructed a box maze… if mazes are just a line of boxes taped together. It did the trick.
This is my realization this morning: every moment is a moment to move forward or backward in time. I decided that today was a day to move forward. I am thankful for that. And tape. And cardboard.