And I played with my babies.
We rolled around and wrestled. I kissed them and hugged them. And we just laughed and laughed. I swear I squeezed every bit of their energy into my body.
And I needed it. Oh, I so desperately needed it.
Not in the way that we count down to a glass of wine after we (figuratively) throw our kids in bed for the night. It wasn’t my kids that drained me today. It was life. And my reprieve from it all was the magical hour of playing with my kids.
It might be totally cliché for a thirty-something mom of two young kids to feel or say. But it’s just my truth.
This is my kind of happy hour.
This article originally appeared SimplyEvery.com.
