I reached a point yesterday that had been building for a few days. The point of motherly meltdown. Thanks to two year molars and vicious sibling rivalry, my usually calm world tossed and roared and threatened to drown me in the black waters of hysteria.
We all survived. Things are quieter and more manageable again although it seems everything I pick up is sticky. What is up with the sticky when kids are around?
I did have a few moments of reflection at my holy hour of 5 past midnight and remembered a quote from Virginia Woolf," A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction."
Replace "write fiction" with " accomplish anything other than cleaning the sticky" and you will understand my state of mind. I fell asleep wishing I had a room of my own to escape to.
I woke up and read My Three Son's latest post. I now believe in the blog fairy godmother. While I go search for my passport and $180K please take a look at my dream room.
This is how I wind center pull balls. Not as cute as yarn cakes but I am too cheap to buy a winder and have an aversion to gadgets anyway. Unless you get me one for Christmas. Then I love winders.