It's 5:21 PM on a Wednesday, and both of my children are asleep.
The baby was fussing and when I sat down to nurse her, she immediately fell asleep. My brain immediately flooded with all kinds of feel good chemicals and I stared at her for a long time, not wanting to put her down.
My toddler was sitting at her tiny coloring table. She'd been coloring quietly for a long time. Longer than really made sense.
"Are you okay?" I called out. No answer.
I flipped the baby to my shoulder and popped up from the couch to see BG's head down on her table, her arms splayed to either side.
My sweet, sweet girl.
My husband, as far as I can tell, hasn't left work yet. Dinner is mostly prepped and ready to go, since I expected to have to cook one handed. The house is relatively clean, and the laundry is caught up to date.
I think someone is trying to tell me to take a break.
Only I'm not really sure what that even means.
It's quiet in the house right now, so quiet, quieter than I can remember it ever being before. That's a good thing, it's washing over me, and sweeping me up, and I can feel my shoulders dropping and my brow unfurrowing. I'm not "on." There's no potential crisis. For a few minutes, I can just be.
That scares the shit out of me.
I've been trying so hard to be better, to do all the right things, to work on what I know are my issues. I want to write, I want to have real friends, I want to have meaningful work, I want to stop feeling behind on the housework, I want to make a difference in the world, I want to learn, I want to feel more intellectually stimulated, I want to be a more loving wife and a more present and involved parent and a better friend, I want to have more fun, I want to make real authentic connections, I want to be stronger and braver and smarter.
But I don't even know what to do with five minutes of quiet.
I don't need to fill them. I don't need to change. I don't need to be better or different or to fix anything.
Right now, things aren't perfect. I'm uncomfortable. I'm not accomplishing anything or making any progress on anything (okay, of course that's a lie because you all caught on that I'm writing and therefore cheating, right? I'll stop soon, I promise).
I'm not getting any "better."
And that's okay. Because I don't need to be better. I'm already good enough. I just need to be.
I'll believe that for another thirty seconds at least.