I'm sitting down to write this morning, at 5am, with enough motivation to keep me at it for once, when I hear the sound of my eldest climbing down from his bunk bed.
And then waking up my youngest. UGHH!
I set them up with breakfast when it became apparent that they weren't going to go back to bed. As I sat in the living room (they had effectively kicked me out of the kitchen), I get 30 questions about what I'm doing.
This is how the conversation went:
"I'm writing Trev."
"What are you writing?"
"I'm working on my book. Now shush and finish eating your breakfast."
Now my youngest chirps in.
"What's your book about momma?"
"It's too hard to explain to you hunny, you won't understand. Now finish eating."
By the time I get back to writing, the thoughts that I had on my recent chapter have completely slipped out of my brain.
The rest of the day has been spent with our Christmas tradition of going shopping for the kids to pick out their ornament for this year, and finishing up the Christmas shopping.
Maybe once they've taken their baths and have gone to sleep, will I again get a chance to write.
That is, if I can keep the man of the house from following me around like a lost puppy. Everytime I try to write while he's bored, he asks me so many questions I start throwing capped pens at him! Maybe since I did that yesterday to him while he was watching the basketball game, and then reminded him that he does that to me when I'm trying to concentrate, he will leave me be for at least an hour.