Losing Time

When he naps, I nap. Whether I'm exhausted or not, I put him down then move to my bed to snuggle under covers. I do this because it cuts the day into manageable pieces. Because it's too cold to go for a walk. Because it's April and there's snow on the ground. Because I've run out of good books. Because The Boss has gone from a baby to a boy in the past six months and I can't seem to pin point the moment when the change started to happen - and somehow, sleeping seems to make time stand still.

Unfortunately, all this napping has left less and less time for writing, here or elsewhere. At midnight last night I sat up in bed staring at the blankets as my husband brushed his teeth. I realized that I was dreading the darkness, dreading being left alone with all of the words in my mind that I've been pushing back, stuffing into crevices within my subconscious and ignoring.

I suppose the only remedy is to pick up a pen.