Waves of Silence: Moments of Calm Before the Family Storm

The house is quiet. As I'm sitting in front of the fireplace, coffee in hand, I'm surveying the house at rest. The couch pillows are askew, some barely hanging on as they teeter over the edge. Push cars lay motionless, parked haphazardly in front of the entertainment center (aka Toy Central). Laundry hangs from the back of the rocking chair, where it was tossed carelessly yesterday after a speed cleaning session before heading off to a playdate.

As I glance towards the kitchen, I can see clean dishes that my loving husband took the time to wash last night waiting to be put away, but I know that most will never make it to their true home, as they will be put to use very soon when the house starts to wake. Cleaning supplies left over from yesterday's cleaning, tiny toys, lunchboxes, and other knick-knacks litter the island and remind me that I need to tidy up during school hours later today.

The house is quiet but not for long. Soon, our busy Thursday will start, and then it's lunchboxes, breakfast, getting dressed for school, grocery lists, school volunteering, laundry, tidying the house, and more. When the house is asleep, though, it feels like I have all the time in the world.

In an instant, as I type, the sweet little cry of my youngest reaches my ears, accompanied by the not-so-sweet grunts of my stepdad visiting with my mom. A ping from my phone apprises me of a grocery delivery placed late last night in desperation, realizing I had forgotten to buy the juice boxes for my youngest's Thanksgiving Feast at school today. The house, once peacefully asleep, now begins to stir, marking the beginning of my day.