I play around on Photoshop for awhile, instead of doing the dishes. I hate doing the dishes when it's cold. I say to myself that I'll do them tomorrow. I said the same thing last night.
I turn off the TV and the music. Then, finally, the lights - one by one.
I fish a pile of cords into my hands and carry them, dangling, into the bedroom. I plug everything in, trying to be mouse-like in my silence even though The Boy could sleep through a stampede if it were occurring outside the window.
The night vision picture on the monitor shows Our Archer still tucked neatly into his cot, so I resist the desire to sneak in and kiss him goodnight, again.
I kick off my uggboots, rearrange the pillows and snuggle down into the warm blankets.
The door is nosed open by a stealthy four-legged companion. I half-heartedly tell her to get out. She obeys, but I know all too well that I'll wake up in the early morning with her snuggled up at my feet.
Sleep doesn't come easily. I've taken to drinking coffee, as a habitual practise, while the mornings and nights make me shiver. I'd blame the caffeine, but I think it's more than that.
My creativity is restless again.
I contemplate returning to the computer. I smile. Just another hour in my own world, playing with colours...
...but the monitor lights up and the baby shaped pile of blankets begins to wriggle. I smile bigger.
I turn off the TV and the music. Then, finally, the lights - one by one.
I fish a pile of cords into my hands and carry them, dangling, into the bedroom. I plug everything in, trying to be mouse-like in my silence even though The Boy could sleep through a stampede if it were occurring outside the window.
The night vision picture on the monitor shows Our Archer still tucked neatly into his cot, so I resist the desire to sneak in and kiss him goodnight, again.
I kick off my uggboots, rearrange the pillows and snuggle down into the warm blankets.
The door is nosed open by a stealthy four-legged companion. I half-heartedly tell her to get out. She obeys, but I know all too well that I'll wake up in the early morning with her snuggled up at my feet.
Sleep doesn't come easily. I've taken to drinking coffee, as a habitual practise, while the mornings and nights make me shiver. I'd blame the caffeine, but I think it's more than that.
My creativity is restless again.
I contemplate returning to the computer. I smile. Just another hour in my own world, playing with colours...
...but the monitor lights up and the baby shaped pile of blankets begins to wriggle. I smile bigger.
