Just in case anyone was wondering, the average time it takes me to write on of my blog post's tends to be about 6 hours. Not because I research what to say, and make cute backrounds, and edit it to perfection. The reason it takes so long is because typically I will start with the title. Then I write half of a sentence. This is about the time my 4 year old tells me she is hungry. This is the same child who ate lunch, and seconds and some of her sister's food and the easter candy she swiped while nobody was looking, all less than an hour prior. So I tell her that there will be a snack time at 3 p.m. I then write 2 more words of that first sentence. But have to stop again because my daughter is writhing on the floor, wasting away from starvation. About this time I hear a crash from a bedroom and Shea starts screaming, so I go to check on her. I come back out and all seems well, so I sit down and write 2 sentences. Then noticing how quiet and calm things are, I get up to investigate. I find my 4 year old in front of the open fridge taking one bite out of each apple. So I get her away from the fridge and get her distracted with some finger painting. Then I decide to cut the bitten apples into slices and put them in baggies. I come back into the living room and find my daughter finger painting her younger sister instead of the paper. Thank goodness for washable paints! I figure she is already messy, so may as well let her paint too. So I get her set up at the table to paint too. I sit down and try to remember what I wanted to write. I type almost a whole sentence and my husband comes in and sits down and decides to tell me every detail of the book he just finished reading. I sit and try to look interested. I really try. I go back to typing and this time get a few sentences out when my husband asks why I look so serious. I tell him I am typing. He asks if something is wrong because I look mad. I tell him, "no, I am just trying to concentrate." I ask him to give the kids a snack. I know I should just do it myself. He is not an idiot, but he does feel the need to ask me several questions about the process. So once the kids have snacks and hubby goes to do something, I start to wrap up the ending of my blog post. My daughter comes over and starts hanging from my chair and climbing on me wanting to know what I am doing. I tell her I am writing. She tells me she needs to go potty, so I tell her to go ahead. Then she tells me she already went in her pants. So I change her and clean her up. I then seem that my younger daughter is covered in paint, so I decide to just put them in the bathtub. Once they are bathed and dressed, I come back and try to finish that last sentence. My husband pokes his head in the door and asks, "You gonna start dinner?"
