I am usually a pretty healthy girl, but for some reason I have been very sick this winter. Three times have I been hit with the sore throat-headache-muscle ache combo. Yesterday I was couch-ridden all day. The children, being quite opportunistic, took advantage of this by sneaking cookies, graham crackers and whatever else they wanted from the kitchen all day, knowing I wouldn't do a thing about it. And they were right. I couldn't have cared less. As long as they kept the noise down, they pretty much had free reign of the house.
This reminded me of one particular day when I was so tired and I really just needed a nap. So I lay down on the couch and at that precise moment, Roman yells out, "Mom! I'm going to eat this ice cream for lunch, okay?" I was tired enough that the thought, "Ice cream is made out of milk" was enough justification in my mind to let him finish off the carton.
I guess I should be grateful that my children are old enough to fend for themselves in a pinch. And I guess a cookie (or seven) for lunch every now and then won't kill them--or me. But I just really hope I get better, soon.