It’s that time of night when he is fighting sleep like a little warrior.
Mission: stay awake forever.
Tactic: gain sympathy.
He will give in with pathetic whimpers of defeat as he falls into whatever babies dream about.
And it’s that time of night when I let the Mommy settle a little. Netflix streams, junk food reigns, the fairy that gets this place tidy sometimes makes an appearance, and I cozy into the quiet. This is the time I get to process the day; even if that is by not thinking at all. And on good days and bad; the days she wouldn’t listen at.all, the days he won’t let me put him down for even a second, the days she tells me that she loves me a million times, the days he catches his breathe with how happy he is to see me are all grabbing my shoulders and spinning me round to see that this life is crazy beautiful.
It’s messy, gross, funny, old, ready for living.
Good night, children. May you be given another day to disciple your mother.