Thursday, November 5, 2009

Some mornings you're productive, brilliant, thousands of words, writing like it's akin to breathing.

And some mornings your infant son chews on your laptop cord while your preschoolers tool around the house in cardboard boxes, which can only mean that whatever had been IN the boxes is now somewhere between your kitchen and living room, and then you hear the sound of something tearing and then there's a crash or a shout, and perhaps a foul smell trailing behind your daughter as she zips past and you realize that writing will not happen.

1 comment:

Jo@Mylestones said...

Tell me more about those brilliant productive mornings. I'm not sure I've ever had one of those. As for the laptop chewing, box tooling kiddos, crashing, shouting, etc....that would be the life I know. :-)
Thanks for stopping over at my blog today. It's really too bad our one day of January warmth in New England has come and gone, eh?