I have things to do. Let’s see, I have house work galore, weeding the garden plots, rearranging boy numero deux’s room while he’s gone, and plenty more besides. And writing with a whole brain, so I may actually net some kind of income from what I do. Writing with half a brain or less is not so income netting.
I also have a teething toddler who is clinging like nobody’s business, who is not particularly interested in food she can chew and who prefers to nurse all night long.
What’s a mother-writer to do? Besides beg someone to shoot her now and put her out of her sleep-deprived, partially-functioning misery.
Now, I’m kidding of course. No need to hire a hitman or call the authorities as I’m not a danger to myself in that regard. I am, however, much klutzier than usual. For instance, yesterday, I stubbed the same little toe twice going around different corners, inside the house and out, and I bonked my head on the corner of a two-drawer file cabinet just bending over to pick up one of C’s board books off the floor. The little pointed bump at my hair line still hurts. Warning: file cabinet corners are very sharp, and I believe, slightly aggressive. I won’t even mention hitting my right shoulder going through virtually every door frame. Apparently, I list to the right. Oh, and I guess I mentioned that shoulder bit after all.
Seriously, any ideas would be a big help on all fronts. I’m feeling very rutterless and ineffectual…even if I do get to cuddle C a ton.