I have had a rough 24 hours that involved vomit and two children that took turns alternately waking me up all night long. At 4:45 this morning I had to make the decision to either get a few more hours of sleep, or run to Walmart while I had the chance. 
I chose to sleep.

I need to go to the store. Badly. But Husband is at work and won’t have a day off until Sunday. It is now Tuesday. So at some point, I’m just going to have to suck it up and haul a sick child and an infant into public so I can get children’s Tylenol, canned pumpkin, and chopped pecan pieces. Because I have to do a practice run on the cheesecake I’m planning to bake for Thanksgiving. Priorities, people. 

I was beginning my descent into self-pity (why does he have to work all the damn time? oh yeah … so we can pay our bills) when I made the conscious decision to stop my inner complaining and NAMASTE.  

30 minutes of yoga later, I have a whole new outlook. I may not eat my young after all. At least not today.

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