writing

I used to write in the evenings after the kids went to bed. Eventually I started writing in progression to make books, but before that, I just sat down and started writing. Today I was cleaning out some files in our computer and opened a file that said "writing". When I started reading it blasted me back to my life in Missouri when Dale was going to school and I was working. It was a seriously loco life, but we were truly happy. Here's a glimpse.

There were days when nothing else mattered. That tiny twinkle of laughter became a clanging cymbal ringing through the house everyday, all day long. It evoked such unspeakable joy in my soul that I can't even begin to describe it. I would be in the next room giggling to myself; heaven forbid my little ones see me laughing about them saying "fart head" or "butt crack"... anything on the naughty list was funny. Then they would scream with laughter. That usually snapped me out of Lala Land nostalgia and back into mommy mode. How could I raise little ladies and gentlemen if I let them say those filthy words and scream at the lunch table?

And now here I sit in the quiet. This coveted quiet that someday will haunt me. The other night Dale was out alone on a call. He had to be close so he stayed in a hotel. He said it was such an overwhelming feeling to be in a room where it was empty and quiet and there was no noise, all quiet. Before he knew it, it was 12:30, long past time to get up. What is it about quiet that we crave so deeply when we have none? Then once the noise is gone, the quiet screams in our ears.

xoxo