Don't bother me I'm writing

My husband complains that our children never listen. Sometimes he blames it on me, "You never make them do anything." I have a different theory. I believe our darlings are mimicking their daddy's behavior. Exhibit A: I'm in the bedroom typing. The door and windows are closed. The television is off. The heat is on. I run to the kitchen for something to drink. The trip takes no more than 30 seconds. And when I return--the the door and windows are open. The television is on. The heat is off. My husband is watching a football game. "I'm trying to get some writing done," I tell him. "Maybe you could watch the game downstairs." Silence. " I said I'm trying to get some writing done. Could you maybe watch the game downstairs?" "Huh, what?" He stares at me blankly. "The football game is distracting me. Could you please watch it downstairs." "OK." I return to my computer screen. What wa

I'm a fairly dramatic woman with two fairly dramatic daughters; I've been waiting for, "I hate you," and, "You're the worst mom ever!" But my 9-year-old, Lily, caught me off guard a couple of weeks ago with this gem, "We used to be so close, Mommy. What happened?" I swear it all went down in slow motion--the end of everything. There was no reason to get out of bed or brush my teeth or watch TV. There was no reason to go on living. I putzed around the house aimlessly. I picked a fight with my husband. I cried all day until Lily got home from school, and I asked her what she was thinking.   She told me we drifted apart shortly after her sister was born. "Ever since Ashlyn was born I've felt this way." "Well, that was five years ago," I told her. "You don't think we've been close for five years?" She shook her head. "LILY! OH, LILY!" My heart was screaming. Ash