The Holy Grail of multiple motherhood has happened: both kids are asleep at the same time. This was something I took for granted until e.e. came down with some minor congestion and decided to feed every two hours and not sleep more than thirty minutes at a stretch. Perhaps sensing that I’ve been leaning towards a condensed version of our bedtime routine due to my need to get back to him, E has taken to not falling asleep without crying a bit every time.
After getting over the shock of the quiet and solitude, as usual I entertain fantasies of all the things I could do now (1. write about the five odd topics I’ve been wanting to reflect more on, 2. look up a pattern for a throw quilt, 3. try a new recipe, 4. respond to emails, 5. scrub the shower), before turning to the things I should do now (1. shower, 2. pee, 3. sleep), and finally deciding on the only responsible thing I ought to be doing (1. sleep). And I wonder why I feel like I never do anything with my life.
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