You go to bed at midnight
Because you've had too much thai iced tea at dinner. (No, not wine, not vodka. Iced tea. Apparently this is now how you roll.)
You still wake up at 6:00AM
Because your body is so accustomed to it. Or perhaps because the sunrise still flickers in ever so slightly from those expensive, black-out, Pottery Barn curtains you just purchased. Or maybe because the rumors really are true - as you get older, you just sleep less.
You miss your babies for a moment, then realize you haven't gotten to sit outside on your deck in the peaceful morning air with coffee for... (oh, wait) you've NEVER done this. So you grab a magazine and a yummy cashmere sweater, and take in the morning, sip by sip. (Bliss)
Your husband wakes up in a panic at 8AM because its too quiet, and everyone's gone (including his wife) and he thinks you've been kidnapped. You see his sleepy and adorable face relieved to see you (simply enjoying a cup of coffee on the deck) and for a moment remember what it was like when it was just the two of you.
You go back to bed together until 9AM
You eat a piece of chocolate. The whole thing. And you don't share it with anyone.
You realize that you're starving, because around 9:30-10AM is usually close to lunch time for you in your real world. So rather than grabbing a bit of toast or a quick bowl of cereal, you make scrambled eggs with care, sprinkling in cheese and carefully cut tomatoes. You savor every last, slow bite (except for the intentional leftovers you keep for your sweet, old dog Violet - who also remembers what it was like when it was just the two of you.)
You blog again.
You let the words pour out, not for a job, not money, not for clients or reasons. Simply because it's what you used to do to center your world and somehow make sense and keep track of things. You write because you love it. You share because you wonder if perhaps your audience is still there to listen. But either way you're doing it for you. You. And you realize right then and there that everything is not without sacrifice. Balance isn't possible, but to prioritize what can be sacrificed is. To have these stolen moments, you will be without your children. When you have them with you, no other priority is possible. And that's how it should be. And you also realize in a sort-of epiphany-of-peace that to have the career and the write-ups and the work and the successes, the hard times and the heartbreaks, the ups and the downs that come with running a business, you will get less of this. But maybe, just maybe... there's room for a little bit more.