The hour just before bedtime is a unique yet everyday occurrence. It holds the essence of a job well done and the longing for just a little bit longer. Each evening I am relaxed and subdued, content with another day drawing to an end. Chores are done and everybody’s bellies are full. Kids are bathed and bedtime stories are read. I am tired, exhausted, and ready for sleep, but something in me doesn’t want to let go just yet. I know once I close my eyes this day will be a memory. Another day gone, unable to return back to this very moment. Another milestone passed and another day marked off the calendar. Another memory made and another day fulfilled. It almost feels as if the whole world slows to a halt, just for a second. I love these bittersweet times that play out each day. So despite my weary eyes and worn out body, I will sit here a little while longer. If nothing more than to bask in the here and now. And to enjoy the few moments my house is eerily quiet.
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Ah yes, the sacred twilight hour—also known as “The Sit of Triumph.” You’ve defeated chaos. You’ve slain dragons made of laundry. You’ve negotiated with terrorists disguised as toddlers. The dishwasher hums like a lullaby, the floor is momentarily Cheerio-free, and the air smells faintly of bubble bath and existential exhaustion.
But instead of collapsing like a Victorian heroine into your bed, you… linger. Why? Because this is your time. The house is still. The fridge isn’t asking questions. Nobody is sticky. You’re finally free to scroll endlessly through your phone, contemplating big life questions like “Should I start that new show?” or “Why does my knee hurt when I breathe?”
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