The house was quiet,
kid and spouse asleep.
I lit one candle,
a vanilla scent,
melting onto a pickle jar lid.

Moved the toys
Except of course
the squeaky yellow duck.

I filled the tub like a child.
Is there such a thing
as too many bubbles?
I sunk into the scalding bliss,
an ****** for the heart.

I soaked and sighed and giggled,
took a picture of foamy long legs,
and my toes painted red.

A perfect end
to a seemingly unending night

You annoy me
sometimes
You make me want to bang my head against the steering wheel
sometimes
And sometimes,
I rest my head against yours
with my crying eyes looking into your sleeping eyes
wondering why it is that I can't do it all right
for you.
Why sometimes when your face is filled with amazement
gazing up at the starlit sky
you tap me on the shoulder to remind me there is a moon,
but I'm sometimes too busy
looking down at my toes
wondering when the next time I can get a pedicure will be?
Because when you have a child,
they say "your life is over"
which is entirely true.
Life starts over
and sometimes I find I have to remind myself
that paying this bill right NOW is not what life is dependent on.
I would tell you
that next time I'll get it right
but it's sometimes not true.
You are teaching me how to live again,
and with learning comes mistakes.
But there is one thing I know to be true,
I may not know how to be the perfect parent
but I know how to perfectly love you.

This perpetual exhaustion is becoming heavier
At times I fear it's consuming every fragment of my being
Like a dense fog that creeps in, obscuring the beauty of the untouched landscape
It has smothered my enthusiasm and shrouded my mind
Each day as the sun sets
The light that once illuminated my eyes is stifled by the unrelenting shadows of fatigue.
My perception drowns amongst the sleepy tears and sinks by the weight of my jaded heart.