I sit here typing aimlessly as I wait for the caffiene to kick in. I want nothing more than to go back to bed. It was a restless night. I feel so worn out.
My days are all the same and they are all different. I wonder if I will ever be able to apply a routine to help me master my time instead of allowing the time to master me.
I sigh heavily and try to think of the best way to handle this day. Already, I have soothed a child with nighmares in his head (he provided me with the sleepless night) protected my middle child from the fear that may creep in if I allow her to read the story posted here (the source of child ones nightmare fears - he is eleven and has not requested to sleep in my bed for years) and I have calmed my youngest as she was upset about sleeping in and afraid she wouldn't finish her homework before school (she has dyslexia).
I feel awful for giving in to my son's plea to let him hear my story. He is a boy with a sensitive heart but his maturity always amazes me. Maybe he will listen to me the next time I say,"No you don't want to hear my story."
I promised him that I will write one just for him, that hopefully will turn out intriguing and not nearly so twisted.
You can be looking for that to come out later today! =)