We had plans to be lazy this evening. We were both having shit days and we wanted to cuddle-up and forget about the rest of the world. We wanted to forget about the people bringing us down, the stress of parenting, the city and its problems, the icy cold right outside our door. We were going to sit and enjoy each others company, joking and laughing and most-likely drooling while watching Anthony Bourdain eat some crazy street food in some far off place we'll never visit.
Instead the city needed more time from him. And what can he say? He's a hard worker. I love that about him. I also hate that about him.
So I got the text and my night was altered. I'm used to it by now. I'm used to getting the kids fed and bathed and off to bed by myself. Sometimes it goes well. I put on music and let them dance around the house like crazy monkeys so that when they're older they hopefully remember those times and forget how tired mommy always was.
When the house is finally quiet and resting I take a big deep breath. I grab my glass of wine and run myself a bubble bath and go to bed early. Cold winter nights are usually the hardest. It's so dark and our bedroom is freezing. I tend to feel more alone than in the summer.
One thing is for sure, I'm thankful for wine and bathtubs and heavy duvets and flannel pj's.
