The time is now 1148pm.
Every night, I tell myself to sleep early. Get some rest. Sleep when the boys are sleeping.
And every night, I find myself turning out the lights at midnight.
But I am a natural night owl, have always been.
I used to read till 5, 6am and my mum would wake up to see me still awake, nose buried in a book.
Things have changed since then, of course. My life has changed. Motherhood has changed my life.
Has it changed me? Perhaps. In many ways. In good ways.
I’m calmer. More centred. More aware. More empathetic. Kinder.
But it has also changed my life in so many ways.
I can no longer sleep in. Read at leisure. Jump up and do stuff on a whim. Buy clothes without thinking if it’s going to be conducive for nursing. Eat whatever I feel like. Go to the gym.
It’s not bad, it’s just that sometimes I do miss the peace and quiet of my house. I miss the unhurried-ness of it all.
I guess that’s why I stay up late.
Well, late considering my circumstances now.
To enjoy the solitude. The quiet of the night.
To be a me that’s just for me. Not a mum. Not a wife.
It’s now 1155pm.
Time to hit the sack.
Some little person will need me in no time. There will be snotty noses to be wiped. Tiny warm bodies to cuddle. Sweaty foreheads to kiss goodnight. Backs to be patted during coughing fits.