Today my son is trying my patience. Really he has been trying it all week long. He has been clinging to my leg for dear life in the mornings and I can barely get a shower, get dressed, get him ready for school.
Today I have 3 new books calling my name. I can feel their words, their laughter, their very real paper dimenstons beneath my fingers. I can feel the woody paper sucking the oil from my skin as I rapidly turn the pages as I devour someone else's story.
Today I want to ignore the fact there is a little person that wants me and needs me. I want to close the door, pour a glass of wine and read. I want to get lost in someone else's words. I want to lose myself in their thoughts, their whimsy and their lust.
I want to feel alive for some other reason than baby soft skin, wet kisses and raspberries. I want to be a woman this evening and read and drink wine and have raunchy thoughts.
I want to be me tonight. A complete me. Tomorrow I can be someone's mother and someone's wife. Tonight, I just want to be, for me.
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