Dear 9:00 p.m.,
I adore you; you know I do. There is just something special about our time together. When the kids are finally asleep, it seems that you and I can conquer the world. I often have ridiculously high expectations of what I should accomplish, and I know I need to treat you better.
I promise . . .
- to keep a more delicate balance of understanding. There are nights for using the elliptical machine, and I may need a yummy piece of chocolate on other nights. (I’m talking about you, Black and Green Milk Chocolate with Almonds!)
- to recognize that, yes, you are a magical hour, but your time is not infinite. One or two chores tops, but I will never expect to clean the whole house or cross off every item on my to-do list.
- to remember that our favorite way of passing the time together is a glass of wine and binge watching Netflix. Always. Why, my friend, should we mess with this good thing we’ve got going on?!
- to not feel guilty for hardly ever using our time to make lunches for the next day, especially when it is so much cozier to cuddle up under the covers mid-week.
- to understand that all work and no play makes me resentful and grumpy; I’ll try harder not always to use you to answer work emails or write reports.
- to not get sucked into the black hole that is Instagram. We both know that you are WAY better than that and deserve an amazing novel to get lost in.
- that I will savor every minute we have together before bed. You are one of my favorite parts of the day.
I’m looking forward to some relaxing moments with you.
Love,
A Grateful Mama
