sweetbriarpoet
Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.
Sixtieth Entry
I am having one of those days when you are constantly angry but you don't really know what you are angry about. It's almost as if I've been fussy, like a child, and I don't want to get anything done but just read book after book. I snapped at the children today, felt horrible about it, bought them suckers. Harry and I have been getting along wonderfully, but since he is never here, I forget how wonderful wonderful really is. Every year, around this time one of the children gets the flu, and maybe I'm angrily waiting for all of them to get it at the same time.
I really have nothing to be angry about. Maybe I'm anxious because I've been sitting around with the children for the past few days. The weather's been truly nasty and I can't handle taking all of them out at the same time. And since my nanny's gone for the holidays and my neighbors are visiting family, I'm left here all alone with the six of them, keeping them entertained in a small house.
The best way to make them listen is to play hide and seek. I have to help the little ones hide. With our big wardrobes, it's virtually a hide and seek paradise, but I follow all of them around and blow their cover. I'm too nervous that someone's going to get their fingers slammed in a door if I don't watch them carefully enough. No injuries so far, but I suppose it's just a matter of time.
Oliver's been sniffling. It's not interesting. Rev and Trinity are visiting cousins and I haven't seen them in three days. It's quite odd, considering I see them almost always, even on my own vacations. And Harry calls almost every hour to make sure I'm holding up with the children. It's surprising that I don't find this annoying. I think I'm just so happy he cares.
I've been writing far too much. It's been hurting my style and making me lose interest in practically everything. I'm even almost sick of looking at my own writing now. But still I'm typing this, so I must depend on it more than I thought possible. When Harry comes home, I hope he brings food. I forgot to eat today.
I really have nothing to be angry about. Maybe I'm anxious because I've been sitting around with the children for the past few days. The weather's been truly nasty and I can't handle taking all of them out at the same time. And since my nanny's gone for the holidays and my neighbors are visiting family, I'm left here all alone with the six of them, keeping them entertained in a small house.
The best way to make them listen is to play hide and seek. I have to help the little ones hide. With our big wardrobes, it's virtually a hide and seek paradise, but I follow all of them around and blow their cover. I'm too nervous that someone's going to get their fingers slammed in a door if I don't watch them carefully enough. No injuries so far, but I suppose it's just a matter of time.
Oliver's been sniffling. It's not interesting. Rev and Trinity are visiting cousins and I haven't seen them in three days. It's quite odd, considering I see them almost always, even on my own vacations. And Harry calls almost every hour to make sure I'm holding up with the children. It's surprising that I don't find this annoying. I think I'm just so happy he cares.
I've been writing far too much. It's been hurting my style and making me lose interest in practically everything. I'm even almost sick of looking at my own writing now. But still I'm typing this, so I must depend on it more than I thought possible. When Harry comes home, I hope he brings food. I forgot to eat today.
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