12:13 a.m. Up. Put baby to bed about 20 minutes ago. Husband is working tonight. 20 minutes of absolute quiet. Peace. My time. I should be sleeping. Or praying. Or doing one of the ten million endless chores. At least according to my mom. I want a cup of apple juice. I want to drink it with my eyes closed. And imagine myself with some high end silk nightclothes, glitzy high heels, sitting on a boat deck, gazing at the night sky, watching the city lights recede in the distance. Escape. Good bye. Tata! But then I see my baby's face. Full of love. Trust. It hooks my heart to stay right where I am on the hard, uncomfortable, old, stained ikea couch, in my lace Victoria's Secret night clothes, torn in too places from the early days of breastfeeding. Swollen face, hands and feet glued to a screen that doesn't do me any good. Love. That's a face of love. Good night, world. Sleep tight, fellow time-zoners!
Musings of yet another brain, heart and soul