Lipstick and Lullabies

I am almost 36 and my kids are getting big.  John and I are having date nights out again, and I am not wearing leggings as pants all the time anymore.  I even put lipstick on more often, and I feel like a certain kind of mature, responsible freedom of making personal lifestyle choices has settled over me, replacing the sense of urgency and being needed every second of every day.  It's a great time in my life, and I am enjoying adulthood better than ever.  Still, when the weekend comes around and the boys start cuddling and begging for attention in ways more than one, I find that the best accessory I could wish for is a rosy-cheeked baby sleeping next to me, or the angsty face of an almost-five year old who has just discovered rock and roll music.













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