Peace and Quiet

We survived Thanksgiving. In addition to my big family, we've also added four spouses and so far, six grandkids. (No more from this household, rest assured!) To say that it's a bit crowded at family gatherings is an understatement. Luckily we get along well enough to tolerate each other for 4+ days. At one point the cousins were running like crazy through the house and SHRIEKING. What is it with girls screaming?! It drives me insane and I'm used to it. Unlike the dogs in the surrounding four counties and my dad. I went into the living room after the madness had gone to sleep and apologized for all the noise. His answer wasn't at all what I expected: "Well, they aren't hurting anything. You wouldn't believe how quiet it will be on Sunday." It's another one of life's ironies. I don't know how many times I've said, "What I wouldn't give for a moment of PEACE around here!" and our parents have all the peace in the world now--and it's too quiet. :( The girls will be gone in about fifteen years. Which is nothing compared to the (hopefully) 30ish years we'll have later. I often remind R that he'll miss all the toys under his feet 24/7 but once again, it's hard to appreciate it at the time.

So during this holiday season, I'm going to try to appreciate the daily FLEETING moments that drive me insane:

1. EVERY morning at 6:15 I hear an elephant running through the house, the bathroom door is flung open, and a little face appears at the shower door, wiping steam away: "What you doing, Mom?" Hmmm, same thing I was doing yesterday at this time without any privacy. She then plops down on a rug and watches the show. Thank goodness she's only two and not old enough to ask too many questions about what she and Sassy did to my body.

2. I've also found that I'm either going to have an audience while I'm doing my business in the bathroom or endure a constant, "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom," on the other side of the door. I'm not sure which is worse.

3. I have ZERO time to myself on my commute to work. One is dropped off at daycare and two minutes later, I'm getting out of the car with the other one who spends about five minutes at my work before the bus picks her up. Now this could be great quality time but it's usually spent listening to never-ending stories about princesses and cupcakes and constant fighting over whose turn it is to talk. I'd just like a turn to listen to the radio.

5. I now know why my dad was so cranky in the evenings. He didn't have DVR. It is impossible to watch anything with kids. I feel like our TV is on permanent pause and two hours later, the time is up and we still aren't ready to watch it.

6. My parents always had a "circle" in the house that was great fun growing up. We have one too. And it's apparently still fun decades later to run through rooms, chase each other and scream like wild animals. Maybe we should have sold our house after all. . .

7. I sound really selfish saying this next one because it would have been a vacation for my mom to grocery shop with two kids, but wow, I would love to have one trip ALONE. Actually, it's usually not too bad. But I just had surgery and I can't lift Stinkus into a cart. It's ugly. I don't think Sassy's fingers ever left the cart when she was little. Stinkus is lucky to be in the same AISLE as the cart. I wasn't sure whether to be nervous that someone would take her or grateful if someone did. Just kidding. Kind of. :) Man, I was worn out. Again, I used to laugh at parents who put their kids on leashes. . .

I have to remember that someday, in the not-so-distant future, grocery shopping and car rides will feel lonely. I'll miss that little Peeping Tom who greets me in the morning and wants to climb in the shower so I can "hemi-hemi!" Someday there will be nothing on TV and all the time in the world to watch it because there are no toys to pick up. And I don't want to be sad about it. I want to enjoy all the chaos now and send my girls off to live the rest of their lives--and then enjoy the rest of our life together. What's really sad is I'm going to look even worse in the shower. . .