It's 10:00 or 10:30. The Brewer game has just ended. The movie is over. The news is finished. My husband yawns and says he is heading up to bed.
Bed. I love bed. I am exhausted. My body longs to follow him. My brain knows it's the right thing to do. However, I don't. I say "I'll be up in a few minutes."
Even though I need sleep to reenergize myself for another day of parenting the CEO and the Vampire, I don't go to bed. I stay up.
This is my time. The time when I am completely alone. No one is attached to my hip. No one is asking me for a snack. No one is whining. No one is hitting or biting or crying. No one is doing anything because it is just me.
So I sit in a darkened living room, the flickering TV is my only company. I may check in with my friends on Twitter . I * may* clean or do some laundry. I might read a book.
I could sit out on the porch watching the stillness of the night. I could slink around on cats' paws to watch my children sleep.
I could do anything or I could do nothing. It is my time.
I love Bunny with her freakish genius and her glorious imagination.
I love Lion with his boundless energy and his heart stopping smile.
I love my children for the endless possibilities that they have before them. I am truly happy that I get to play a part in who they become.
But, I love being alone. I love the solitude. I love the quiet. I love the ability to do whatever I want, to remember, to just be me.
So I will continue to wander in the midnight hour, in solitude.