I have always been a night owl. Staying up late has never been the issue. Getting up in the morning was. I feel like I do some of my best thinking late at night.
This is especially true since becoming a mother. Especially when I was a full time SAHM for the first 6 months of her life. Late night was when I finally have ME time. No one is asking for anything. No one is demanding we watch ‘the rotten to the core movie’. No one is telling me to hold on while they finish this level on the game.
I can read. Or write. Or catch up on tv. I can pin things on pinterest and load my cart on Etsy. Eventually I fall asleep… its rare that it happens immediately so I don’t even try anymore.
I enjoy the quiet of late night. At least when suspicious sounds are in the air. It allows me the quiet mind to think. Which isn’t always a good thing to do late at night. The level of what if reaches a new level. You start thinking things you never even once imagined. Like what happens if the world ends tonight? What if there’s a zombie apocalypse? Do we really have to go to toddler time tomorrow? Is he thinking about me? Really the list is Neverending.
Usually my late nights included snuggling up to my munchkin. Proud co-sleeper, no shame. Listening to her soft snores. Dodging her flailing arms as she tosses and turns. Wiping her sweaty hair out of my face. I enjoy this little time we have together. Where I’m not scolding her or anything. Just us. Peaceful. Content. An unbreakable bond I wish I had with my own mother.
Sadly however late night pillow talks with R were less peaceful and often. They started out as fun lovey moments… but usually ended with one of us upset. I know, the more I look back, the more I see all the cracks in our glass house. He never understood why I waited until bedtime to want to talk. Like heart to heart. Maybe because you’re gone all day. Maybe because this is the only uninterrupted time we have now. Apparently I was always supposed to share my feelings via messenger with emojis and gifs. So he could get his beauty sleep. Unless of course he wanted to stay up late playing video games..
Now most of my late nights during the week I’m by myself. Snuggling my daughter’s stuffed animal and fuzzy blanket she leaves at my house. I read and write a bit. But I’m so far behind on TV I gave up. I talk to a few friends late into the night. It helps with the mindless thoughts of loneliness. I long for the weekends and naptime when she’s here. I guess I never realized how much her snuggles are a vital role in my late nights until she wasn’t here every night for them.
I’m sure one day these late nights will be put to good use. I’ll actually write a book or something. Until then it’s just me and my thoughts, and occasionally my monkey.