In the Wee Small Hours

It’s 12:51 a.m. on a Sunday. Well, technically a Monday. Everyone else is asleep, and yet, here I am, at the computer. I should be asleep. I’m tired. But instead I’m up. I know I’ll pay for this tomorrow, but I’m still up. No one is on Facebook. I’ve answered all my email. I even cleaned the kitchen. I should go to bed.

But it’s kind of nice to be able to do whatever I want without interruption. I like the quiet of the wee small hours, when the kids and my hubby are sleeping. I can watch what I want on tv (I’ve had my latest Netflix video for months). I can read. I can just enjoy the solitude and breathe. Once you have kids, you’re almost never at home alone—at least not when the kids are small—and you don’t realize until it’s gone how much that alone time means.

Sure I have Mom’s Nights Out (I love a good MNO. Or a bad one. Whatever.). I grab an occasional pedicure with a girlfriend or squeeze in a facial. I spend some Saturdays in the “quiet study room” at the library working on assignments I should have done during the week. But there’s something about being at home alone, just puttering around, that is inherently appealing. And so, here I am, at 12:55, writing this rather than crawling into bed.

When I’ve mentioned this tendency to friends, I’ve been surprised to learn that I’m not the only one. Apparently, mothers across the globe occasionally stay up far too late just because they enjoy the silence. Who knew? As I’ve been working on this, I’ve been having an email conversation with a friend who should also be in bed. I’m guessing her reason for being awake is pretty much identical to mine. She’s up because she can be, and because her house is quiet and she can do what she wants without constantly being interrupted to take care of someone else’s needs.

That, I think, might be worth the exhaustion tomorrow. And let’s face it, tomorrow will be exhausting whether I get enough sleep or not. May as well enjoy the silence while it lasts.