I have started writing this three times now. I continue to be sidetracked by my whole body telling me to stop. Please stop. Please just stop. Lay down, I am tired. I’ve been tired all day. I was tired getting up. Tired at the interview for a potential school for Peach. Tired at Target. Tired at home. Tired at dinner. Tired. I don’t say this very often. I usually put on a happy face and persevere … but this blog is my space to be real. And today, I am tired. I don’t have much to write about other than that. It’s not a bad feeling. It’s just a statement of truth. I went to bed at a reasonable time, I awoke at an okay time, but somehow I am simply done. I don’t want to talk or play on the internet. I want tea, and English muffins with blackberry jam and I want the big fleecy blanket and a good documentary that will let my mind slow down enough to let my body rest. I think it needs it. I know it needs it. Thirty-five minutes left of my day as a mommy, and then the night is mine.