Keepin' It Real

Silence.

It is a beautiful thing. Nearly almost as lovely a sound as when the coffee pot stops singing it's gurgly melody, indicating my morning is going to be a tad smoother. (No, obviously I have not stopped drinking the stuff. Just cut back. How could I quit? It's darn near as important to me as Lucy's bottle is to her. And you'd know if you ever tried to pry it out of either of our hands at 5 am.)

Too bad my silent mornings don't last so long. Even now as I type Lucy is starting to stir and babble. Sounding much like the coffee pot these days with her morning symphony of goos and gaas and burps and farts. (So sweet how she tries to please me by sounding like my favorite appliance.) By the time I finish this paragraph she'll be standing on the side of her bed, shaking the rails, hollering at me to get her out.

The thing is, I think I'd be terrible with it always so quiet. Probably why I have 3 kids. They keep me moving, even when I don't want to. Young when the calendar says I'm old. Hip when my favorite trends have met their end. (Ok, fine, got me there. No cool person has ever said 'hip.')

I love the chaos. I wake, slam my coffee, run around like a crazy person, clean, sew, cook, run around some more. Then when the kids finally fall asleep I am curled up ready to pass out too. Some days are better than others, of course. I could always do without the sick days or the crabby days, but all in all, I am just busy enough to keep me sane.

But oh, how I love those few minutes of silence that so rarely show up during my day. The few minutes in the morning, maybe a couple at night. That time when it feels like perhaps the world has finally stopped moving, when the only sound for miles is the breath you are forced to take. Part of me feels like I could just live there forever in the quiet.

Then Lucy farts, and Nate comes stomping down the steps, and Rex asks for his breakfast, and I remember that the only reason this moment is so wonderful is because it only lasts a short while.