It’s been a while; I just can’t seem to get this journaling thing down. It seems like talking about myself is just redundant, and hard to do. So I’ve decided to write a cheesy poem today…
My coffee is gone.
My shoes aren’t on.
My two-year-old daughter is reading.
The boys are watching
too much TV,
and the quiet moments are fleeting.
Just when I think I
might get some peace,
the baby, he starts at his screaming.
Now my hubby is
away at work.
Meanwhile, I’m stuck with all the cleaning.
LOL. Pathetic, maybe, but better than a blank page, no?