I tuck children into bed with drinks, kisses and prayers. I sit on the couch with my laptop and begin to type only to awaken an hour later.
I go to bed and slip into a deep sleep at least six times. I know this because each time I am awakened by a child needing a quick prayer for a bad dream, another drink or a soothing pat.
I wake up early to get my husband off to work. I sit down to write and two hours later, I awaken to children playing in their room trying not to wake Mommy up. I rush to do all the things that should have been done before they got up.
I supervise morning chores. I cook breakfast for hungry children. I clean the kitchen and dining room. I teach school lessons. I intervene in childhood skirmishes. I correct the child who whines. I finally grab a shower then something to eat for myself.
I teach more lessons. I fold laundry. I cook lunch and clean the kitchen. I supervise more chores, more lessons, more discipline. I put the baby down for a nap. More school.
I sit down to write and this time the baby wakes. I make supper. He comes home and all is right in our world. We eat together, sharing laughs and a few corrections.
I run to get groceries and coffee with my two favorite ladies...Mom and Daughter. I clean up the kitchen and decide to leave the rest until morning. Again, I tuck them into bed along with my hugs and prayers.
I sit again to write and decide I have done a different kind of writing over the last 24 hours. I've written lines in the story of my life....in their stories. With the ink of the indelible kind.
Yes, this is what I do when no words come. I just live, and I think it's the best story of all.