Like most ex-teachers I am a great planner.
I could win awards for my planning.
This week, and possibly most of next week I am working at ACER. It's lovely to get suited up and march my offspring off to respective locations and go into an office.
They have a coffee machine at "my" office.
I find things like this hugely exciting.
So I planned this week and next carefully.
I ordered food.
I cooked nutritious, healthy meals that could be defrosted at the end of a day at the office (love saying that!)
I organised lifts, sitters and juggled the offspring's extra curricular activities round my new and temporarily increased workload.
I was at the top of my game.
But today when I came home Mr Small greeted me lovingly.
His little cheeks were flushed with fever, his cough was achingly noisy.
And that's what happens.
A wise friend said to me that she always plans to be able to do one less thing than she can manage. That way if it all comes crashing down, then she can cope.
I'd planned for other eventualities but not this one.
Fortunately husband is kindly staying home to mind Mr Small.
Whilst I am jealous that he gets to snuggle with my delicious toddler, I know Mr Small could not be in more loving hands.
And so I have duly prepared sandwiches for lunch, organised uniforms and my outfit for work tomorrow.
And I know there is a long night ahead with a sick Mr Small.
But that's the way the balls fall sometimes.
Despite, or maybe because of all my planning.