Even though I have a nightly routine, no night is routine.
We take our time to talk individually about what is on our minds, what challenges we face, and where we can do better, and where we can do worse. It’s not easy, so we do it together despite having to do it all alone.
But there are nights like tonight where I feel drowned. Some nights I just feel too much. It’s been a long day, some days are like that. But it’s been an emotional day too. I hate to see my children sick, and today my youngest has had a fever that exhausts her little body. We’ve cuddled and napped, feeling the pain of fever contort the muscles in my back I’ve held her as we watched tv. Getting nothing done as I focus on being where I need to be.
The scales aren’t balanced or fair though. The middle children feel jealous of that singular attention even knowing why and agreeing with it, there’s still that primal feeling of being left behind, which I work on. We discuss and we all cuddle a little before bed, but I worry to think which one might be the next sick and hurting one.
This is where my mind is as I think of being alone, the children asleep and my heart exhaustsed. I think of how I’d like to soak in the tub but don’t have the energy to turn on the water. Laying like a discarded blanket across the foot of my bed as my daughter burns through the sheets. Sleep tramples across the night and I drift away like a lonely guard on night watch.