No Really…It Can Be Done

Last week, at 11pm, I was listening intently to be sure my daughter fell back asleep. She just randomly threw up, right out of a dead sleep, all over Pinky (her favorite stuffed bear…yes, pink), her blankets and herself. It’s was freezing…so the last thing I wanted to be doing was crawling out of my warm bed for anything…much less puke. But, as a loving mommy, I cleaned her, the carpet and the bed up; threw all the nastiness in the laundry; rocked her for a couple of minutes; laid her down and watched her for a couple more minutes and scurried back to bed. I happened to look at the clock when I left and came back to the room. It was 10:39 when I went in there and 10:51 when I came back. I was surprised, because I was sure it was much later than that. But it started me thinking about time and the apparent chronic shortage of it.

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