It’s ten to nine on a Monday night. I am so ready for bed after a marathon day. You know, of mothering and dog-caring and cooking and baking and cleaning and walking and throwing the ball and not getting a nap and constantly moving, doing multiple loads of washing with a toddler who has times of clinginess that make my goal-orientated mind buck. And all of the emotional management that comes with parenting and getting through such a day.
Now the toddler is being settled, I have eaten, showered, finished a cake and am sitting. Time for unwinding and trying to reconfigure my body to go to sleep early.
It’s super hard to do. Yeah, I have read research every now and then that says that we are pretty hard-wired in our sleep preference. Mine is pretty weird as it is, and definitely not in sync with my little one’s.
Anyway. I know millions of people go through this stuff, and many millions go through much, much worse.
But, you see, I have been firmly nudged by an internal voice to write. Just write.