It's silence. Like, beautiful, amazing shhhhhhhhhhh, still as still can be, silence. Oh, with the exception of the rain hitting the side of the house, which actually is quite soothing and peaceful. A cup of coffee. Promptly jumped into sweatpants after getting home from the gym. Girls asleep. ahhhhhhhhhhh.
I never understood the term Silence is Golden until I became a parent. Like, deep-into-parenting is when I'm all OH. YEA. Silence IS golden. Unfortunately, often times I find myself so up to my eyeballs stressed while parenting. The stressful moments always surround the Most Chaotic Moments though. You know the ones. Moments surrounding mealtimes, especially when kids are hungry, shrieking, everyone has a different need-sometimes I swear I could use four more arms, but really-they need to be long and stretchy like Gumby or they aren't really doing anything other than getting in the way. Or bedtime. WHY THE HECK IS BEDTIME ALWAYS SO HARD? The whole shebang. The bath time, the teeth brushing, the getting into jammies and OH TRY AND CATCH ME, MOM game is being played. It all seems to come with a fight these days.
One kid escapes the tub, sloppy wet and running through the halls while trying to catch Mac like he's a greased pig in a farm town fair, while the other one gets soap in her eyes, is fa-reaking out, and already telling us that SHE DOES NOT WANT TO GO TO HER BED, because, I'M NOT SLEEPY YETTTTTT.
In those moments? I usually tell my husband, NO MORE KIDS! We will not have a 3rd. That's it. Case closed.
Don't bring it up again.
UTERUS IS SHUT DOWN, BUDDY.
Because, I literally cannot imagine more chaos.
(no I'm not dramatic)
(ok fine I am)
It truly is golden. I actually crave it. My body craves silence in a way I never knew existed before and I don't care how stupid it sounds. Even when I'm out, on rare occasion, alone. I'll often opt to not listen to any music in the car at all. Because. Whoa. What's that? I can hear myself thinking. Oh, wow, there's actually good stuff up there going on. I should pay attention to that more often.
It's the same feeling when I tip-toe out of Lucy's room, turn her door-knob slowly, after getting her down for a nap just minutes after Emeline and I go to my room, and I sit.
Just sit there. For even a few minutes. And breathe.
I realize I may sound like a lunatic, especially to non-parents. But silence is my mom-medicine.
I'm telling you, silence is good for my soul.