Feeding My Soul.

Five years ago, I strapped my newborn son into his car seat and carried him out to the car. I buckled my daughter, not even two, into her car seat. I sat in the driver's seat, and I drove to the nearest coffee shop equipped with a drive-thru. After ordering my extra large iced mocha, I drove around town, heading nowhere in particular. All I knew was that I couldn't return home.

Being so newly postpartum, responsible for my two young children, I struggled to keep my sanity. My husband had returned to work, starting around 4pm and not returning until close to midnight, leaving me with our children.

They don't call it the witching hour for nothing.

It felt as if not only my children transformed into crying, needy things but so had I. Only I didn't have anyone to care for my needs, dry my tears, and tell me it was going to be okay. If I had, I might have had a better recollection of those dreary months.

Tonight, my husband went out to socialize. This doesn't happen so frequently, as work and family and home often monopolize his time. I wasn't sure I wanted him to leave, or rather I wasn't sure I wanted to be left with my children. By myself. But even though I wasn't sure I wanted to solo-parent tonight, I knew I wanted him to have time to laugh and drink and talk. What's a few hours anyway?

It wasn't even half an hour when I decided I needed to take that drive to the nearest coffee shop, the same one that provided for me five years ago. This time I buckled my babe in to his seat while my older two headed to the car. We all settled in, and I drove away from our home.

What a delight! I was escaping our home, strewn with laundry and toys and books. It felt so much different this time, however, when I pulled out of our driveway. I knew that while I didn't want to be home with my three children, I knew that I could manage if I needed. I'm not quite sure if that was the case five years ago.

I ordered my expensive espresso drink, and I drove my brood home. But when we pulled in the driveway, I knew I wanted to give them something. I wanted them to have a chance to let go of their own stuff, and I asked if they wanted to ride bikes. YES! REALLY?! LET ME GET MY SHOES, said daughter as she ran out wearing her pink rain boots.

I drove the few miles to where they could ride bikes around a track, and I settled in to a bench seat with the babe while my older ones rode with the wind at their back.

And that moment felt good. It felt like a gift to my children, and I felt capable.

That's not to say the rest of the night was flawless and easy. But it's the times like tonight, where I took them for an impromptu bicycle ride that make up for the moments where I'm just feeling like I'm not enough.

Because I am enough. I always have been. And I always will be.