by Becky Vieira posted in Parenting

My dear husband-
It?s late. By the standards of newish parents, at least. Our night is winding down while other couples are just beginning theirs. I don?t know if I envy or pity the idea of going out this late. We used to be them. Before kids.
I?m wearing sweats and an old T-shirt. I noticed my pants have some food on the leg. Did it happen tonight" Or was it stained with yesterday?s dinner" It?s hard to say. I was in such a hurry, I took a moment to change before I heard a toddler?s quick steps heading toward the toilet. I grabbed the first thing I saw, I?m not entirely sure these aren?t your socks on my feet.
I don?t feel attractive. I?m dressed for comfort and function. This shirt has been pulled and stretched by tiny hands, its original shape lost months ago. This is not ?effortlessly cute,? it?s an effortless disaster. At least that?s how I feel.
He?s finally asleep, our sweet little boy. My next struggle now begins, the one where I have to decide how to spend my time. Do I tackle the dishes" Put away toys, fold laundry, even think about holiday cards" Or sit down.
I sit. I put my feet up and close my eyes because I finally can. I don?t have to be at attention, ready to sprint after a child who somehow outsmarted a baby gate. Or feel like the safety of that child is dependent upon my being able to  look in five different directions at once. My time is my own, for now at least. These precious few hours are mi...