Not that I don't enjoy having my kids around or even my husband (who is a rather noisy boy in his own right) but the sense I have this time of year is this dull roar that resonates through my head. I don't notice it until it's not there, as with this morning.
Aah, quiet. Cally, our older cat, who has been enjoying sleeping with my daughter's college roommate these last couple days (and she enjoys having Cally sleep with her), woke me up at 7:00. Well, she didn't actually wake me up, I was trying to ignore morning, as I do pretty much every morning.
I never like getting out of bed. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad I did today. At seven, there are no young people skulking around the house. They may have been active at three or four in the morning, but 7:00 has them passed out.
Normally, the Friday after Thanksgiving my husband would be up watching TV by 7:00, which interferes with my usual morning silence. But he has to work mandatory overtime today and tomorrow; something about engines not starting on the first try and airlines sending them back and his crew having to tear them down so the appropriate parties can figure out what's wrong and fix it. Blah, blah, blah.
I feel bad for him, because he's been working a lot of overtime lately. But because he's not here, I'm sitting in silence. Aah.
I went for a walk and most of the neighborhood was asleep; sleeping off their carb hangover I imagine. I only encountered three live bodies and we're talking a couple hundred houses and three neighborhoods. More quiet.
Most of my normal weekdays are spent in silence, so with the first holiday almost down and several more and much more company to go, this is a nice little reprieve. Especially because in just three or so short hours, my house will be filled with screaming teenage girls (my oldest is still a teen for a few more months; not that it will change anything when she turns 20; gaah, 20?).
It's our annual gingerbread house making party. I'm still insisting the kids make nice gingerbread houses, not train crashing, ninja-Teddy Graham, red food coloring infused horror creations. I let them do it a couple years, but I need nice pictures for the grandmothers' calendars. Houses that show the joyful spirit of the season.
My youngest is trying to talk me into letting the college kids frighten up their houses since they'll be leaving the building with them; trying to lure me with promises of her own sweet house of sweets (you can just take pictures of mine). I don't know. Maybe a train wreck or two, but I think ninjas are out. Or maybe not; maybe I don't let them do it because I don't want a peek into that part of their souls.
But right now, the silence is for me. I'm re-energizing for the impending mayhem. Yes, I believe it's God's way of giving me a respite from the insanity.