Jabberwocky

By Kelly

Listen.

Do you hear that?

It’s silence.

At least, that’s what I hear right now. I hear nothing but the whoosh of warm air into my bedroom and the methodical tick-tock of my periwinkle alarm clock. Everyone else is asleep, the room is dark and the hush is almost palpable.

I can feel the peace seeping into my soul, relaxing both my shoulders and my brain.

Ahhhhh.

I love my kids. I love them to pieces. But I’m apparently raising a gaggle of jabberwockies. And some days, the nonstop chatter gets to me.

Right now, my five-year-old son is the prime offender. He follows me around all day, talking and talking and talking. “Mom, I’m making some pizza. Do you want some.” “Mom, look at my Lego guy. He’s a crusher!” “Mom, let’s play a game. Do you want to be queens or twos?” “Mom, here’s the gun I made for you. It shoots jellies.” “Mom, do you know why Short Round is hanging from the Coast Guarder helicopter?” “Mom. Mom. MOM!”

Most days, I deal with the stream of sound with a lot of prayer and a fair dose of laughter. But yesterday, at lunchtime, I found myself saying (for real), “Buddy, can you be quiet for just five minutes? Just five minutes so Mommy can think without her brain exploding out of her head?”

Then, because he was starting to look hurt, “Maybe we can try to make this peanut butter and jelly sandwich together, using only sign language. Do you think we can do that?’

He looked at me quizzically. “No, Mom. That’s silly. Why would we want to do that?”

And he was off again.

I sighed.

I don’t want to crush his spirit, and I know these days of having him at home with me are fleeting. There are times I love listening to his unfiltered thoughts (“You know, Mom, when you crashed the car yesterday, you made me pop!”), and his view on life often makes me giggle (“Mom, stop singing! You’re giving me a song ache!”).

But other days? Oh my word, child. You’re driving Mommy insane.

I think that's part of the reason it's hard for us mommies to go to bed at night. Once the kid are asleep and silence is all we hear, we need to soak it in for a while. It's a healing balm. The quiet is restorative.

And we know we'll need a reserve for the next day, when the chatter inevitably starts up again, often before we even get out of bed.

Right Mom? Right?

Mom?

If it's quiet long enough, Kelly can also be found blogging at Love Well.