I talked with a dear friend of mine this afternoon, reliving what it means when they say it takes a village to raise your kids. I can remember when I had a crucial business meeting for an extensive multi-million dollar project. The executive team I was going to meet with had flown in the night before to ensure they could make the meeting on time. I awoke that morning excited to tell this customer exactly what we could do as a company, present the team, and show examples of our great projects in the area. I put on my lucky “power suit” and heals. Those who know me know that I am extremely superstitious, and when we really wanted a project, I wore the same outfit as I had worn the time before when we were awarded a project. Silly confidence, but let me tell you, it worked 85% of the time. I got the twins up a little earlier than our normal 6 am wake-up, dressed them, and off to daycare we went. Life was good, kids were their chatty morning selves, I was out the door early, and dang, I looked good, so I thought. Getting to work early would allow me to review my notes and talking points one last time before my meeting and make any last-minute changes. As I was driving down Hwy 61 on the way to daycare Laurie’s, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I heard a huge burb and gag, and before you know it, the back of my hair was being splattered with puke from my son. With his extreme food allergies, I never knew if he was really sick or if it was a delayed reaction to something he ate. All I can think about is what the heck am I going to do – 1) my kid is sick or is he sick, can I still bring him to daycare – NO 2) I stink like puke – GROSS, 3) Not my POWER suit, not my power suit. We need this job. The voices in my head are now trying to rationalize the situation. Now, what do I do? The kids cannot go to daycare, and I cannot go to this meeting. I couldn’t get those thoughts out of my head when I immediately turned the suburban around and headed back to the house. GOD help me, my kid is sick, and I cannot miss this meeting. Think, think, think. What am I going to do? Judge all you want, I immediately picked up my cell phone and called my friend, whom I worked with, and asked her to come over and help out with the kids. I got my son changed out of his soiled clothes, put both kids on the couch with some 7-up, and turned on the Disney Channel. I immediately started trying to clean myself up and figure out what I was going to wear and how I would make it to the meeting on time. There wasn’t time for a shower, so I rinsed my hair to get the big chunks out and scrubbed the back of my neck. My make-up was pretty much intact except around my eyes, where a tear or two may have slid out during all of this chaos. Fast forward – I made it to the meeting just as the customer’s executive team was being seated in the conference room. As I sat there, my heart was beating so fast it was about to jump out of my chest. As I intently listened to their project, all I could think of is dang; I hope this puke smell is only in my nose, and they cannot smell what I am smelling. As our team presented, the entire rehearsed presentation went off without a hitch. I was so proud of how everyone had done, and the customer was none the wiser of the events leading up to the meeting. We were awarded the project, and we were extremely excited. With a win under our belt, it was now time to relieve my wonderful friend, who helped out hugely. It was time for me to switch hats and go back to being a mom. I quickly congratulated the team and ran home to take care of the kids and work from home for the rest of the day. In the end, my son’s puking was related to a food allergy. He was allergic to milk, wheat, eggs, soy, and nuts. No matter how careful I was, there were often hidden ingredients in prepackaged food.