Quiet thoughts

Since having children I crave quiet. I relish those moments when the kids are asleep or playing quietly in another room. The silence is peaceful. And restful. And very much needed for my soul.

It's funny because when I was single I would turn on noise. I never drove anywhere without music playing. I either had music or the TV on at home. I may even have been in the next room changing sheets but hearing the voices on the TV helped me feel not so alone. I was alone enough that I sought out activity and people and noise.

Now with a husband, three kids and a dog, I've reached my fill. I find myself turning off the radio in the mini-van. Choosing not to turn on the TV. And pulling out puzzles, Play-Doh or crayons when I've come to my zenith of boy-generated busy-ness. Even the sounds of the dishwasher, washing machine and dryer are too much at times. I'm constantly looking for moments in my day for quiet, alone time.

Yet, I admit, there's great fun in noise too. I love the loud laughing of my kids. The exhuberently told stories of the day. I love Legoland just as much as the kids do. And a great piece of music will get my feet moving, my voice singing, and my heart pumping. I still love the noise and commotion, but I get enough of it without having to seek it out now.

It seems that when I don't get enough of something I crave it. Maybe it all comes down to balance. A wise friend once told me that humans are always seeking balance in life. I keep pondering that and keep coming back to the truth of that statement in so many aspects.

As Madeleine L'Engle says, "We need both for our development: the joy of the sense of sound; and the equally great joy of its absence." Yes.

A mother's version of 1 Corinthians 13

Love in the Home

If I live in a house of spotless beauty with everything in its place, but have not love, I am a housekeeper–not a homemaker.

If I have time for waxing, polishing, and decorative achievements, but have not love, my children learn cleanliness–not godliness.

Love leaves the dust in search of a child’s laugh.

Love smiles at the tiny fingerprints on a newly cleaned window.

Love wipes away the tears before it wipes up the spilled milk.

Love picks up the child before it picks up the toys.

Love is present through the trials.

Love reprimands, reproves, and is responsive.

Love crawls with the baby, walks with the toddler, runs with the child, then stands aside to let the youth walk into adulthood.

Love is the key that opens salvation’s message to a child’s heart.

Before I became a mother I took glory in my house of perfection. Now I glory in God’s perfection of my child.

As a mother, there is much I must teach my child, but the greatest of all is love.

--Author Unknown

Um, why yes I do

"Mom, don't you wish you had Lightening McQueen underwear like me?"

It's a two-fer!

While driving the boys to their friends' house, Owen popped up with "3 plus 3 equals 6 and 4 plus 4 equals 8."

"Very good," I say, trying to remember if we had covered these particular equations before.

"Give me some other ones Mom."

I'm thinking this is too cool and I give him other addition questions up to 10 as we're driving along. I look at him through the rear-view mirror and notice him looking all around the mini-van without saying a word. If you know this child that's quite something because he's quite the talker. So with the next math problem, I say, "Wow, how did you know the answer?"

"I count the windows."

Then he added, "And I didn't talk so I could think."

After three kids, I'm still amazed...

... that a 3-month-old knows to lift her pudgy hips when I change her diaper. (I was going to write about this last month but then I dislocated my elbow and I got a surge of freelance editing and daily swimming lessons for the boys and, well, I was swamped. So now this child is really 4-months but it's so much more amazing when one is 3 months don't you think?)

... that a baby can actually explode more poop up her back than what remains in the diaper.

... how much stuff a tiny baby can spit onto you, causing you to change your shirt three times a day, causing you to wash those same three shirts daily so you have something to wear and wash the next day. Of course, the smart thing to do would be to have more than three shirts that fit but you're nursing and you're trying to lose weight and you're trying to save money so you can drive places and you're now babbling and you need to go change your shirt again. By the way, the stuff spewed forth and what it looks and smells like--you never want to eat cottage cheese again.

... by the bodily noises that infants can make. My one little princess is decidedly unladylike; the sounds erupting from her can make everyone in an entire room to turn, stare and stifle their giggles. Frankly, she's much louder than either of her two big brothers were. Hmmmm, is that a sign of what's to come?

... how early personality traits show up. Annaliese will squeeze her face tightly together and scream shrilly enough to break glass when Jonas pushes her too fast in her baby swing. Go figure, the boys' motto has always been the faster the better. I have a feeling this child won't like the roller coasters.

... how completely enamored a grown person can become with a itty bitty sweetie petitie munchkin pumpkin bobo bobo baby.

What our waiting room reading tells you about us

While at the orthopedic's office the other day, Jack and I didn't pick up the Sports Illustrated or In Touch magazines flung around the room. We're the types that take a book with us wherever we go. Our picks that day:

Me: Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder

Jack: How Am I Smart: A Parent's Guide to Multiple Intelligences

6/15/08: I recommend my read but Jack had some criticisms of his--didn't like the organization and thought it was too simplistic. He liked the subject; however, he's going to the get the original work from Gardner, actually so am I.

Mangled Mama

On Monday, I got the kids dressed in their casual finest, which means cute shirts and shorts with no holes or stains (and as any mama knows that's a feat in itself), and rushed them into the minivan to head to the mall to get some photos taken of the three of them as a surprise for Jack for Father's Day. The orange fuel light was shining when I turned on the ignition so I had to make a quick stop at the gas station.

At Arco I swiped my debit card, pushed the button for regular unleaded at $4.11 a gallon (yikes), put the nozzle into the tank and . . .

Took a trip to the ER.

Jack likes the version that I saw the price of gas and fainted, which gets a chuckle. But in reality I stumbled over the hose, fell on the asphalt and dislocated my left elbow.

OUCH!!!