When my children were younger, I almost couldn't wait for them to grow up. I wouldn't have to take them to the bathroom anymore (Yippee, for not having to wipe other peoples bums). They could dress and feed themselves. And they could arrange their own play dates. I imagined all this free time in which I could write. I would write a million books a year! Yes, a million!! |
No longer having to wipe bums would free up a lot of time! Okay, a million books a year is totally unrealistic, but maybe two or three would be a possibility instead of my usual one book a year, which is my current status quo. I would be a blogging fool! Blog posts daily!
How dumb and foolish I was. So dumb.
How dumb and foolish I was. So dumb.