And then life happens.

You know how you make all these great plans for the month? for the week? for the day? All these grand schemes of what you will accomplish and the wonderfully healthy fresh meals you will cook every night. All the To-do list items you will slash a red marker across. "Finished! Accomplished! Done!" you will cry with vigorous gusto as you march like a conquering barbarian across the vanquished wasteland of unfinished chores.

And then life happens. Kid get sick. Ironing piles up. You run from one appointment to the next and don't have time to plan menus and cook. The dust bunnies under your couch get friendly and start multiplying like, well, like rabbits. And at some point you stop, look around you at the chaos, and exclaim "What happened?!"

I find in times like these, the best remedy is to slow down. Stop. Take a deep breath and start over.

This week has not gone as planned. I have not been as productive as I wanted to be. What I have to remember are the other things that were accomplished. For instance, I didn't sleep for more than 30 minutes Monday night. So Tuesday, I was tired, nauseous and unable to do almost anything other than survive. But the reason for my sleeplessness was worth it. Ian was running fever with a bad cough. From 11:00 pm to 5:30 am, I was curled up in his bed, nose to nose, cuddling while I scratched his back and he tried to get comfortable. Neither one of us slept but at least he was happy to have Momma there where he wanted me. Just so you don't think I am some super mom, I will quickly tell you this was NOT fun. My arms and legs kept falling asleep and since we had to be nose to nose, every time he coughed was right in my face (probably the reason my throat is sore today).  Every time I thought he drifted off, I would sneak back into my room, slide under the warm down comforter and lay my head on my pillow.

Only to hear him wind up again, crying at the top of his lungs and coughing.

It was a long night. A hard night. A night I do not wish to repeat. But then again, to have a entire night of him curled up against my chest, feel his hot breath on my cheek, have his feverish hand resting on mine and to have him whisper over and over again, "I need you Momma. I need you."

I would do it willingly again in a heartbeat. He'll only need me for such a little while.