Everything in this house quiets down between 9:00 and 10:00 in the evening.
Jeff is in bed, the twins are (usually) asleep, and Jeff Junior is sucking his thumb in his crib.
I soak in the stillness of this house and bask in the humming sound made by the dryer and washer.
I smile.
There is peace and serenity right here.
Then I ask myself: What now?
Should I eat?
Stay awake to read or watch a movie?
Take a long, warm, luxurious shower/bath?
By force of habit, I normally retreat to the couch and alternate between reading and watching episodes of CSI: Miami. (I’m on Season 3 already and Speedle is dead.)
This is my only time to myself when I can actually hear myself think. I can hear myself breathe or gulp or sniff. The rest of the day is a frantic move to finish one chore after another that I couldn’t even remember what food I ate for lunch (or did I even eat at all?).
Some days, I think I’m a disorganized piece of crap who doesn’t know what to do next with her life. Some days, I feel like an expert in all things child related; that I can actually solve any problem that comes my way because I’m so awesome and powerful. Some days, I just cry in frustration and in exhaustion.
This is why 10:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. is my sacred four-hour “me time”.
This is the period when I can talk to Heavenly Father and cry because I’m so exhausted from being a mother and I really want and need a three-day break to pull myself together.
I don’t mind losing four extra hours of sleep.
Really.
I can’t go to sleep without listening to my mind blabber about the next book I’m reviewing or a story idea I’m not quite sure of.
I don’t mind not sleeping.
I know it’s not healthy but I don’t think I’ll be happy if I let myself retire in bed while my brain and heart tell me I need to know what case will the CSI team solve next. Or not knowing what happened to Merinda Herringford and Jemima Watts’ murder investigation in Rachel McMillan’s detective novel, The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder.
The last two weeks have been extra challenging for me after receiving my green card in the mail.
The flu hit every member of this family except Jeff and the sick me has been tending to three children. Not to mention that Jeff Junior is teething and it seemed that his molar tooth is making an appearance first so I’ve been beyond miserable.
I could really use some help.
I miss my Mom.
I thought of all the times I took my Mom for granted. Growing up, my Mom was the lone permanent figure in my life and I’ve been foolish to wish that she’ll let me go sooner than later.
I hope she agrees about my suggestion for her to come visit us here in the US.
I need my Mommy too.
