Red light, yellow light

A while back, my 3-year-old son projectile vomited onto me as he was getting ready for preschool.

I had a whole workday planned. Every Sunday evening, I sit down for 20 minutes and map out the week ahead. I look at the different things I need to do and set priorities. I talk to my husband about who will handle the kids’ drop offs and pick ups, and when I might have time to exercise or walk the dog. I walk away with a pretty clear idea of what I need to accomplish and how it might happen.

And then the toddler gets sick and throws all of those plans out the window.

Frankly, I’m still learning how to handle this sudden priority shift. Rarely do I wake up and have the day that I planned to have. Caring for two small children often feels directly oppositional to capitalism, hustle and order. In fact, the only thing I can trust about taking care of an 8-month-old and 3-year-old is that nothing ever really goes according to plan.

On that day, I realized that I am getting better at practicing resiliency, or coming back to groundedness after being slammed by something outside of my control. I’ve spent 18 months of the past few years chronically ill with hyperemesis gravidarum during my pregnancies, and that condition taught me that I could never predict how I would feel — or what I would need — on any given day.