I sat at my computer last night, trying to get a few pages written before bedtime called. My five-year-old daughter wanted to play a video game, but she'd already watched a movie and I thought she should do something else other than sit in front of the t.v. After a few tears and pleas, she finally gave in, went and got her colors and her new coloring book.
Unfortunately, she decided to color right next to me.
If I was just surfing the 'Net or doing other mindless things, I wouldn't have minded. Actually, I still don't mind that she was right there beside me because I like to have her around. But she kept asking me questions. And telling me to "look at what I colored" and asking more questions.
But being the wonderfully calm mother that I am (well, at least I was last night), I made the obligatory remarks and tried once more to work on my manuscript. I did manage to get a page written.
I thought about giving up a few times and just joining her in her coloring ventures. But for some odd reason, that little thing called self-discipline kicked in and refused to let me budge. I plugged away.
When I went to bed last night, though, I couldn't help but feel that I'd been out of touch with my story, that I wasn't quite into it as much as I should have been.
I figure I can always go back and change things - what's important is that I got words on the page and spent time with my daughter at the same time. What could be better? :-)
I've always tried to live with this mentality: One day at a time. Unfortunately, when I implement it, I fail spectacularly. But for this...
We have a big snowstorm headed our way. Now usually these snowstorm predictions tend to be far grander than what actually happens - i.e. we ...
Yesterday I woke up in a fantastic mood. I felt pretty good (you never feel terrific when you have chronic illnesses) and I couldn't wai...