Not according to plan

I was woken at five on Saturday morning by a small plaintive voice, "Mommy, my ear hurts." She kept repeating it as I was digging my way out of sleep. There's something about that time in the morning for me that makes me thick. Any other time, I can spring out of bed in a second. I finally managed to move myself five feet and pluck her out of the crib. I pulled her back into bed with me, unable to think of a better response than getting under the covers again. She lay there with me, rolling around a bit, until I finally had the brilliant idea of waking Nick up to fetch some ibuprofen.

Claire just couldn't get comfortable so I soon gave up on sleep. I put on my big fuzzy robe and wrapped an afghan around Claire. I stood her up in the dark hallway, went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. As I brushed my teeth, she slowly sank to the floor and sat there in a little fuzzy yellow lump. I knew then it was going to be a long day.

I had planned my day out to the minute. Instead, I spent hours sitting with Claire in the big chair waiting for the doctor's office to open. Then another hour at the doctor, another hour grabbing snacks and medicine, and another hour sitting in the chair again until Claire fell back to sleep. I was worried about Claire, irritated about the change in plans, and anxious about my ever-expanding to-do list. Jacob was clamoring for attention as well. Then late in the day, I saw pus filled discharge seeping out of Claire's ear. Her eardrum had burst again. That pushed up the dial on the worryometer and added a few items to my to-do list for next year, like specialist visits and perhaps tubes for her ears.

In the end, I had a productive day. If I look at what I accomplished, not the least of which was comforting my child, it was a good day. But if I look at the big balance sheet in my head, I'm in the red. I either need to find a way to increase my productivity tenfold or find a way to fix the books. Frankly, I'm leaning toward accounting tricks.