Why don’t she write?

Here, for your enjoyment, is the streaming dialogue going on while I’m attempting to write the post I started earlier today. This occurred during maybe the first three paragraphs of the post.

Two-year-old Bodhi, looking at a big book about animals (and me responding after every inquiry or comment complete with turning the book to the pages he wants):  “Show me the antelope. Where’s the mandrill? Do you have a phone in your purse? Could I say ‘hi’ on it? Where’s the zebra? Do we have a zebra in our box? What’s this? What’s this? What’s this? I want an apple. Show me the gorilla? Is this a daddy gorilla? Do we have an ostrich at home? Do we have a big horned sheep? I want some more apple. Do you have a peacock? What is amphibian? Do we have bitey book? Do us have ostrich at our house? I want tofu taco..”

Oh. My. God. The torture.

And this, dear readers (well, ok, reader of one – I have no following to speak of) explains one of the reasons why I go weeks without posting. 

On top of this brief taste of my life, I also, in the space of 4 hours (from 6 am – 12 noon), got two kids dressed for the day, fed them, sent one off to school with homemade lunch in hand, baked homemade bread, did two loads of laundry, changed 2 diapers, took out the trash, filled bird feeders outside, did dishes, unloaded the dishwasher, made 1/2 gallon of homemade chai, read several books with Bodhi, played with Bodhi, showered, and fixed lunch. And then Bodhi napped for 15 minutes and soon it’s time to start on dinner before I go off to work.

Why don’t she write, huh? I’ll tell you a thing or two…

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