Date night in the time of parenting⁠↗

This, I tell Lauren, this very thing - the wide open expanse to think my thoughts without needing to respond or reprimand or worry - is what feels so nice. Finally, I tell her, I can enjoy how it feels inside my own mind without guilt, without shame, if only for a moment.

Maybe relaxing is something you do after the kids are adults and out of the house. Then we’ll do nothing but sit around and reminisce, laze and miss, but those times are not yet because right now its 1031pm fuck I need to go to sleep.

My conclusion may seem obvious but I believe is quite profound — the kids were never the issue. The problem was the story I was telling myself, and the lack of connection that brought forth that story.

Maybe I’m not failing. Maybe I’m just tired.