It May Be Worth It For the Quiet

Tomorrow I'll know for sure. Really, I'm always tired so what does it matter if I stay up extra late just to enjoy the quiet house? I'm thinking back to the days when I sat up late in my room reading and writing. That was long ago. Before having children took its toll on my brain and my body. Just recently I said to Pete that maybe I'm tired because I get too much sleep- you know, those 7 hours? I said remember when we were in college and working a couple of jobs? We both did the same thing- worked late, did our school work (well, he did anyway), still managed to be able to complete a thought and not feel like a walking zombie half of the time. Then he reminded me of how weighty a task it is to be in charge of these five little people all day and that's why I'm tired. It's not the physical work that's making me so tired. Actually, I could really use some more of that. It's the brain work. The making sure the school work, reading, laundry, 3 meals a day, nails clipped, hair (sometimes) is being done. It's the answering questions, refereeing (is that a word?) fights, being interrupted, trying to finish a sentence, don't forget to make the appointment, give the medicine, plan for school, fill out the form, make the phone call, remember the appointment, try to be heard over the playing/fighting/discussing noise, be there on time with everyone in shoes kind of tired. When most of the people depend on you for everything it's exhausting. So I'm up late. Just trying to catch my breath after a day of feeling like I was just spinning my wheels and getting nowhere. It's really hard to never have a place of quiet. I long for a chair with a lamp and a table in my own quiet space. Someday. And that will be a bittersweet day for it will mean that all these sweet and needy little people have grown up. How wonderful that they'll be able to wipe themselves. But how sad that a simple kiss from mama on an owie won't make it all better. Maybe I need to just start staying up late to find that quiet. Funny thing is I've filled the quiet with noise- the washer (because if I'm going to be up I might as well have laundry going), the TV (because it was on when Pete went to bed and I haven't turned it off), my typing (remember when a journal was a pen on paper for only me to read?). I'm so glad my noise makers are all safe in their beds sleeping peacefully to rev up for another day. I'll drift off soon, but for now I'll turn off the TV and close the laundry room door and just be.