The Waiting game...

I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.

~Albert Einstein

My kids are on fall vacation...

We've had virtually non-stop rain for the past two weeks...

Which means...

I'm in competition for control of every moment of my day.

Any time I even contemplate sitting down for a moment of peace and reflection, a four-year old needs to go to the bathroom or is desperate for a wardrobe change... or a 6 year old wants me to see his cool spaceship or prepare a snack... or an 8 year old wants to bake something together or fix something frivolous vital that's just broken... Then, there's the inevitable bickering that results from the same people sharing the same space for tens of gray-weather days.

I give the kids their choice of limited screen time each day, but this much rain has been a real challenge. On the rare occasions when the weather has been nice, I've run the kids outdoors as fast as I possibly can -- just to get them (and me!) moving.

To be honest, I've missed my writing a great deal. When I do have a silent moment, my ears are ringing from the noise.

I've never been one to wish my children back to school or anything, so I'm going to whisper this really quietly...

I want my solitude back.

Even just a little bit would be nice. A few hours a day to think and to write and to be master of my own destiny.

I want to be able to make decisions without being questioned about why I'm doing what I'm doing. I want a solid hour when no one is peppering me with questions about the nature of the universe and, alternately, what we are having for supper in five hours. I want to pretend there is a hierarchy of necessary information, where all questions do not demand an immediate explanation.

I am tired of complaining. Complaints are the frustrated spirit's attempt at reflection. But it takes time to break through the negativity and the cooped-up feeling.

Time is what I do not have.

So, I'll tread water and wait. And I'll grab a few moments, like this one, to put my thoughts into words...

And I'll ask -- how do you claim time when life is too busy? When you're waiting for the schedule to clear?

- Midwest Mom

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And if, like me, you're in desperate need of rainy day activities, here's a fun resource: Spaghetti Box Kids. Keep it in your pantry -- you never know when you may need it.

Silence and Cucumbers

We had a crazy weekend. It was fun, but it was crazy.

So, this morning when the alarm clock went off, it was difficult to get us all moving again.

I did it nonetheless.

It was the morning routine of the American mother.

The urging, the cheerleading, the steering, the feeding, the combing, the peace keeping, the shoe-tying, the lunch-packing, the driving, the kiss-goodbye-ing. The return home to dish-washing, laundry, toddler games, and bed-making. Thinking about supper when it's only 10:00 in the morning.

It wears on a person sometimes.

There are times when I feel the heavy weight of responsibility bearing down on me, when the knowledge that my husband and children's health, cleanliness, and emotional well-being are in my hands seems like a burden. There are times when keeping family peace and making sure every other human being within our personal radius is appropriately cared-for feels like work.

These are the times when my energy-gauge reads "Empty".

These are the times when I know it's time to do something different with my day. To change up the routine and let the saddle sores of personal servitude have some time to heal.

It's when I take time for silence.

So, if you happen to come by the house today, you should know that I won't be answering the door. I've turned off the radio. I've turned off the phone.

There are cucumbers on my eyes.

And I'm enjoying a little silence for a change.

It's the one way I know to help let the gratitude back in and feel the joy of mothering again.

Who knew silence and cucumbers were such a wonderful combination?

For me, they're like magic.

- Midwest Mom