I woke up this morning to my phone pinging with a text message. It was our nanny. Poor girl finally succumbed to the fever that's made its way through all three boys.
With Jeff in D.C. and a million things to do at work, my first response was, "Crap."
This whole week seems designed to remind me that things don't always go according to plan. Or at least not according to MY plan. You'd think the triplets would serve as a constant reminder, but apparently this week I needed a refresher course.
Then I realized I had a choice. I could stew about missing work and scramble to find help, or I could embrace this unexpected gift of a day off with my kiddos.
So I put on my yoga pants and made pancakes for breakfast. (Every time I wear my yoga pants I think, "These babies are black. Surely I could accessorize them into work-appropriate clothing. Right?")
With Amelia on the bus for school and three rambunctious boys on my hands, I got everyone ready and we headed out. We were off to the children's museum where we played (them constantly, and me in between a little work on the old iPhone) and had lunch together. Then we went to the grocery store before meeting Amelia's bus. We played in the yard and harvested another dozen tomatoes after Amelia got home. It was a bonus day, and we made the most of it.
About suppertime the boys got a little wild, and I got frustrated with crazy loud kids and homework to be done. No one's perfect, after all. By the time supper was over we were all good again. All in all, it was a good day. And those pancakes were delicious.