Cat got my tongue

I am itching to write here tonight. This is at least the third time I've opened up this page and stared at it, waiting for words to come and they won't. I think I have so much to say that I can't say anything.

• I could tell you about how Robbie was awake at 2am last night -- and stayed awake all night.
  
• The fact that Charlie was able to gather enough Happy Meal toys and old CDs from our car in the drop-off line at school this morning to sell at mini-economy might make a humorous tale.
  
• I thought about oohing and ahhing over Robbie's new occupational therapist and how it feels so good to talk to someone who actually "gets" kids with sensory processing disorder.
• Our crazy, just-me-and-the-kids Spring Break itinerary will probably end up on this page, but not tonight.

I am restless and tired. Wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say, too drained to say anything. I guess I'll leave it at what my dad used to say to me every day when he dropped me off at school:

"Say a prayer for me and I'll say one for you."

That works.