“Want another one?”
I eyed the blue digits on the cable box, signaling that this day was winding down, and thought of all the little kid and baby energy that awaited me the next day.
My husband and I were talking. Not just the regular old conversations about ‘we need diapers this’ or ‘we gotta go to that party’ that. We were really talking. About the lessons we want to impart on our kids. About ourselves as people. About our love.
“What the heck, this is fun.” I replied. Tomorrow’s exhaustion could wait.
We proceeded to pat ourselves on the back for the next hour or so, talking about what great parents we are, what personal strengths we would impart on the girls, how we would change the world.
Then spent the next day with our fingers pressed to our temples, barely able to care for these kids we are supposedly so capable of raising.