It Took Me Two Days to Finish This

I am . . . a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a teacher, a friend.

I want . . .to go eat another chocolate chip cookie, but I've already eaten 5 or 6 today.

I have . . .the most wonderful family anyone could ask for.

I wish . . . we would win the lottery so that I would not have to work.

I hate . . . to watch scary movies.

I fear . . . that something terrible will happen to Mitch or the girls.

I hear . . . the rhythmic sound of the breast pump. (Sorry if that is TMI, but a girl has to multi-task!)

I search . . . for socks that don't have holes in them, almost every morning. Why do I not just go buy new socks?

I wonder . . . if I will ever have job security in my profession.

I regret . . . leaving Mitch in Tallahassee to move back to Illinois when he was in law school.

I love . . . watching Mitch with the girls. He is truly a fantastic dad.

I ache . . .in my tummy after eating too many chocolate chip cookies.

I always . . . could have a glass of red wine. Or a Leinie's. Or a Jameson and Ginger Ale. Or a margarita. Or....

I usually . . . arrive at work a few minutes late every day.

I am not . . . as organized as I think I am.

I dance . . . with Mitch in the kitchen to make Gizmo laugh. And to make Mitch laugh. I am a terrible dancer.

I sing . . . almost constantly. Lately I've felt like Gizmo's personal IPod, as I start a song to sing and she says, "no", and then I change it and she says "no", until we find one she likes.

I never . . .keep promises to myself, and that's something I wish I could change.

I sometimes . . . wonder what I would do if I didn't teach music, and I honestly can't think of anything else. Which scares me as well.

I cry . . . very rarely anymore, but post-partum I have shed many tears as my hormones balance back out.

I lose . . . sleep wondering about the future.

I am grateful . . . that I have a happy, healthy family.

I need . . . eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

I should . . . learn to be more patient with people.

You're welcome. . . Mrs.