I groaned when I heard that familiar whimper coming from the bathroom this morning. I rolled out of bed and padded into the room to find my middle girl begging for a bowl, begging for me to help her, begging for a prayer that she wouldn't throw up. I immediately bolted into action, still rubbing my eyes and yawning all the way. When she was all set up, this little routine we do when she's sick, the bowl, the cloth, the water, the hair elastic, I sat on the edge of the tub and prayed. She still vomited but we talked about how "God has designed your body to get all that bad stuff out of you". I inwardly sighed as I mentally rifled through my file of things I had prepared to do for school today. I had been excited the night before to have a diligent, no-interruptions day. I love Wednesdays because they're activity and obligation free. Illness interferes with our plans. It causes us to become helpless and to feel out of control. It's frustrating when we imagine what this day could look like and to realize what it is now becoming. Illness isn't the only thing that robs us of our control. There are many hindrances that block our plans. My precious girl, who would often rather play than write out her spelling words, was also looking forward to school today. She whined about not getting to do her work. These hindrances point us to what is important. They remind us to appreciate the simple gift of a healthy day, filled with ordinary routines. They cause us to cry out to God in our vulnerability, an attribute that we shelf for times of need. I attended to my daughter today and set our work aside for a time. We experienced little intimate connections and affections that sometimes math cannot lend to. These blocks to our plans may keep us from getting a lot of work done, but my daughter and I loved each other today and enjoyed another type of good "homeschooling".