I can't wait for bedtime.
It could be morning time, and I'm readying the older boys for school and I think, if I just make it until bedtime.
I watch the clock, and I think, I can straighten up when they go to bed. I can finish the laundry and do the dishes and get my writing done. Maybe even do some knitting, at bedtime.
When the house is quiet, they are safe but not moving, they are still.
And then there I am, at bedtime, finally she's asleep and I find myself not wanting to slip away. I could rest my cheek on hers forever, should I just stay here... what do I have to do that is more important, it can wait, it can wait.
But I do, sometimes I do slither off the bed and pull a warm pillow to her side so she thinks I'm there, and I look upon my boys, and I kind of miss them.
All safe and still, I sneak down and have my tea and sweep floors and fold a towel until my eyes are much too heavy and
I don't know if I will ever understand you.