Why 10:00 is the Best Time for Moms

InspirationInspirational

Aug 24

Written By Andrea Portilla

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It’s 10:00 at night.

The teenagers are beginning to move to their quiet spaces. The days of 8 o’clock bedtimes are long gone, but they each find their own nighttime routine that works. The boy is usually exhausted from the day full of friends and school and sports and looks for his bed as soon as possible. The middle one looks forward to the night where she can stay up a little longer reading one more chapter. The baby still wants me included in her routine of snuggles and one more song.

“This is finally my time...My middle of the night fringe hours where I get to sit in quiet, reflect, rest. I can do whatever it is I want. ”

I sit downstairs on our plump leather couches, the sound of the dishwasher humming in the background and I wonder what to do next. Google plays worship quietly in the background. The rustling upstairs settles. The light from my bedroom tv blinks as Friends is on as background noise and my husband begins to relax and gently breathes. His glasses are still on. I lower the tv volume. The One where No one is Ready is on and I laugh because it’s one of my favorites. I take his glasses off and lightly brush my lips against his. He turns, “Don’t stay up too late,” he mumbles. I smile.

I go back to the Living room and I have decisions to make. This is finally my time.

My middle of the night fringe hours where I get to sit in quiet, reflect, rest. I can do whatever it is I want.

I walk into the kitchen and put a few things away that were left out. I make a cup of tea and fill my yeti with water. I head upstairs to my office and open my computer. I put on my “write” playlist on Spotify. My fingers touch the keys and I write. This is therapy. This is calling. This is good.

I write devotionals, blog posts, plans and dreams.

The tapping of the keys are in perfect rhythm.

But sometimes, I don’t head upstairs with tea and stories at my fingertips. Sometimes, after I give my husband a goodnight kiss, laugh at another Friends rerun and move toward the living room, I grab a book, usually some historical fiction, and I escape into another’s story. I dive deep and fill my imagination with World War II resistance fighters and RAF pilots and French victors.

“It’s like being baptized to a new day, the old day is gone and I am in the space between, refreshed and ready for the new. ”

And sometimes, I don’t escape into any story at all. Sometimes, after I give my husband a goodnight kiss, laugh at The one with the Football and begin filling the bath tub with warm water. I grab my phone and a glass of wine and maybe a plate with cheese and grapes. I light a candle, turn on Spotify and listen to Vivaldi or some other Classical great. I dip my feet in the water and slowly exhale as I slip into the warm tub. It’s like being baptized to a new day, the old day is gone and I am in the space between, refreshed and ready for the new.

The 10 o’clock hour calls to me. It breathes life into the marrow of my bones, stirs up callings, allows me to escape and brings me rest.

For so many years I forgot how much I loved this hour. Perhaps I felt underserving of me time, or too exhausted to care for myself. What lies I believed.

But now, I know myself well and I allow time to be fully present to engage with my needs, my thoughts, my gifts. I am still the girl I once was, the one who spent hours writing and reading and relaxing because, well, she was her own and had time for all that whenever she rightly desired. I am no longer just my own, I have my loves and my people, the greatest gifts of my life. But at 10:00, at the fringe of night, I can still be that girl. I can be my own best version of me.

And if I want to, at 10:00, I can sleep too.