Tuesday, June 15, 2010


By Kelly

The purple clouds with pink highlights are still visible from my perch on the floor.

The sun sets late in the north this time of year. I always forget. It doesn't feel like 9:30.

But it is. And the two-year-old who didn't nap today is finally - FINALLY! - sleeping behind me. She's laying on top of her quilt, feet on her pillow, arm hanging off the side of the bed. Anything to get closer to momma. I can't remember a time when she fell asleep without rubbing my arm or touching my hair.

Her older sister and brother have also succumbed. I can hear the quiet breathing all around me.

For the first time today, I can hear myself think.

It's a crazy, wonderful, hectic, beautiful, wild life right now. Not only am I still learning to balance being a mother of four, but suddenly I'm doing it with everyone at home all the time.

To be honest, I'm loving the extra time with my children. I need this.

But to be even more honest, it's utterly exhausting.

Which is why I'm sitting in the dusk with my laptop, listening to the quiet.

I think I'll sit here for just a few minutes more.

Because, in the north at this time of year, the sun rises early too.

Kelly is a new mom of four. You can find her blogging at Love Well.


  1. Yes, ma'am. It is so good that our longest days are also these, the best days of our lives.

  2. I sometimes stay up way too late, just because the quiet is so precious and perfect. The quiet at the end of the day has a different quality than the quiet of nap time (three of mine still nap! and the big kids are quiet); a heavier quiet, so to speak. I love it.