Saturday, September 29, 2012
In The Quiet
This morning I find myself quiet and alone and this is something that hasn't happened in a very long time. Once upon a time, not so long ago, my kids liked to spend the night with people; although only occasionally, and with the large majority of that time being split between my mom and dad's house and my brother's house (both of which are practically next door to us) with just a scattering of nights spent away at our neighbor-friend's house or at a cousin's house. Then, we seemingly entered the stay-at-home phase, with friends. Lots of friends lying here and there all weekend, girls in this room, boys in that room, all running around, emptying the pantry and the popsicle boxes. The party had been permanently relocated right here, in our house.
Last night, however, in an unplanned turn of events, the boys ended up at their cousin's house and the girls, although they weren't far away, stayed at the neighbor-friend's house. So, by 8:30 last night this house was silent, the dogs were put to bed, and we soaked in the peace and quiet. The peace of the night spilled over into this morning, allowing me to sleep until after 7:30, having my two cups of caffeine quietly while I read some things I'd had on my bookmarks for a while. I had a leftover blondie from last night's dessert with my coffee and wrote in my journal for a good long time, about six pages instead of my usual one. I used the time to think about living in the moment and not putting so many expectations on things that haven't happened yet, wishing I could learn to take it all in stride. I also ate the last of the Special K with Red Berries, you know, so the kids won't fight about who gets the last bowl when they get here this afternoon. I swept the kitchen, took the rugs out for a good shake, and washed the dog. Now I've returned to sitting at my desk in my pajamas and untamed hair, reading more, writing more, and enjoying this rare moment of quiet.
Although, nothing makes me happier than to have my kids here in my house with me and I'd always choose exactly that if I had to make a choice, but these moments of silence are incredibly refreshing. I can actually hear my own thoughts and get them written down. I can pray a prayer that doesn't feel like a rushed, smattering of wild, incomplete thoughts. And, I can have that last bowl of cereal without a full numerical account of who had how many bowls in a last ditch effort to win permission to eat it.
Quiet is good.
...While it lasts, of course.
Here's hoping you're able to find a little quiet in your weekend, too.