While I haven't been writing, the posts in my head have been prolific, it's a shame I don't have some sort of machine which could magically suck the words out of my brain and put them onto a page, or type them onto a screen. It's just that time, time has been in relatively short supply since I popped this kid out of my belly (or rather, since he was forcibly evacuated by the kindly Dr. S.). Just when I get started with a good thought, get into the flow of a nice entry, I hear wailing, or grunting, or the worst, the huffing and puffing which indicate a certain mental break-down in only a few short moments. The boy, he isn't happy when Mama types instead of paying complete attention to him, even if I try to pause between sentences to tickle his chin or jostle his swing. And, I find I don't write so well without a bit of quiet to clear my mind. Multi-tasking I can do, but not easily.
So, one asks, why doesn't your husband watch him so you can write? Well, dear reader, when my husband watches him, which is often, I find myself needing to curl up in a little ball on our bed and hibernate for a blessed hour or two of sleep as I'm nursing a nasty cold.
Contemplative this post ain't, but I hope it passes by way of a newsy enough entry to get me by until the boy goes to bed and I can get some real writing done, if not tonight, than some night this week.