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Friday, November 12, 2004

Bad Mommy

I suppose it's a good thing that I never chose the path to charity work. Once upon a time I thought it would be my life's mission to operate a small orphanage. How noble of me. Tonight I realize that it would have been a disaster. I am the old woman who lives in a shoe.

One of the side effects of the medication my little charge takes is hyperactivity. Last night she dropped right off to sleep after supper, tonight she is rocking and rolling, jumping, thrashing, and singing in bed, just feet away from where my own sleep-challenged tot peacefully rests. I just dosed her with her cold medication, not that her cough is all that bad, but in hopes that it will knock her out.


NaNoWriMo is chugging along with a current word count of 18,162, just slightly ahead of schedule. It is truly dreadful stuff. My daughter suggested writing a stuttering character into the story, an idea I briefly considered, because in my case, it's all about the word count.

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