365 Nights. 365 nights of making sure I was home by 7pm or with my kids at 7pm. 365 Nights of rocking & nursing my son to sleep. I don’t write this in the hopes of getting applause or some sort of reward but in hopes to inspire and give another mom the courage to do what I felt like I couldn’t. For 365 nights I have put my son to bed and not to mention my daughter as well. With my husband on second shift, it became a routine that I would put them both to sleep. So over time, little did I know, I was building up this anxiety and attachment to this consistency every night. I would tell my friends I had to be home by 7 or I just wouldn’t even plan to go anywhere past that time. I passed on more girls nights than I can count in fear of leaving my kids for someone else to put to bed. That changed last night. Instead of having a birthday dinner with friends that started at 4:30 so I could be home by 7, our dinner was scheduled for 7:30pm (& had been scheduled for a few weeks so I could mentally prepare). As my husband and I were talking to our kiddos grandparents a few days ago about when we needed them to babysit and night time... my husband stops and says - “woah wait, we aren’t going to be home for bedtime?!” My response — “No. I have put my son to bed for 365 nights, I have deserve this. He’ll be fine” We went out. Had dinner, drinks, good conversation, and laughed harder than I have in months with two of our best friends. And, it’s worth mentioning that my friend had been SO patient and understanding while waiting for me to let go of this idea that I HAD to be home for bedtime. (Thank you for that) We came home, and guess what? Our kids were FINE. Actually, they were better than fine. They spent the evening laughing and having fun with Gramma & Grampa, and our son fell asleep on Grampa’s chest. I woke up this morning feeling incredibly renewed and so thankful that I finally decided that I was allowed to go out and enjoy myself. If only I had decided this sooner. So, to get to the point. Moms, go. Go enjoy an evening where you aren’t the one putting the kids to bed. It’s okay. It’s more than okay.
