I hate packing. I hate packing when I pack for me and I really hate packing for more than just me. It's always amazing to me that my children can pack up what is most important to them in the moment in their little backpack. It contains no clothes or other essential human hygeine items but always has an array of odd little things they clutch in their hands or a book that you've sworn they've read 50,000 times or a stuffed animal they are strangely addicted to.

I did a half hour practice today. I've been really sick and feel horrendous. There was a yoga room in the place we were staying so while the kids swam I jumped in there. I had no physical body strength... pure utter illness exhaustion.

It all has to come full circle right?