The Five Minutes After Everyone Falls Asleep

I have a love-hate relationship with nighttime. I love the feeling of lying down in my bed and the quietness of a sleeping home. I hate the act of putting down a four-year-old who needs a lengthy bedtime routine before he can fall asleep.

But once I finally hit my bed, the stress of the evening fades. The silence feels like the accomplishment of winning another day.

Matt needs the television on to fall asleep. It can take fifteen minutes or an hour before he starts snoring. I don’t mind the TV because I’m not sleepy yet. I love lying next to my husband — the one time in the day I get him to myself. We talk a little or act silly in that short window. He feels warm and safe, though he always pushes my feet away when they’re cold.

I wrap myself in my heavy green comforter with a pillow under my head and body pillows on either side. Matt calls it my wall. I scroll or read about whatever has been taking up space in my mind. I do my best thinking at night. With days filled by appointments, tasks, and family time, nighttime is when the house finally gives me back to myself.

As I lie there, I feel both scared and peaceful. I hear small movements in the walls, the wind brushing the windows, something rustling outside. I think, Who’s there? and Is Liam okay?

Then I tell myself, These are the sounds of my home when everything is silent.

My home is my sanctuary. And those five minutes after everyone falls asleep are sacred.