The clock has not yet struck nine and the little stinker is in bed asleep. She must think it’s my birthday or something. Every day seems the same and it’s a race from the moment Maya begins babbling at 5:30am until she crashes usually around 9:30 or 10. Day slips into the following day and one week chases the next. I don’t know to what magical land my missing hours escape, but I want to go, too. I want to reclaim that time.
What to do with the sole hour I’ve had to myself in… well, a long while? That’s right kids: write. And not write on a silly blog that only a few dozen people (mostly my dear family) check out on any given day. It’s story time. I have an hour before I begin to nod off, so every minute counts.
I have notecards to arrange. A character to further develop. A beer to crack open. And I need to stuff a cork in Tweety before he wakes up Maya Papaya.
I leave you with these pics of the lovely Maya at the park: