Quiet Time

It's quiet time.  Quiet time is mine, one hour that I can do whatever I want and not have to worry about what the children are doing.

I could catch up on a show.  I could fold one of the 37 loads of laundry waiting to be folded.  I could waste time on the internet.  Usually I am doing one or more of these things.

But not today.  Today I am listening.  I am straining my ears for the sounds the children are making.

They are each behind closed doors, wrapped up in their own little world.  Bunny is playing with her dogs, Lion his superheros.  Their play is imaginative.  They tell stories.  They make up voices.

I drink up the sounds they are making.  I store away the way the stories are told.  Their voices open up the beauty of their worlds.

I move closer to their closed doors.  I don't want them to know I am listening.  Bunny is likely to shut down if she heard me.  This is hers, not mine.  Lion is the opposite.  He craves an audience.  He would fling open the door and demand my presence.  His becomes ours.

I do not stay long.  I cannot.  It is theirs, I must be contented with the glimpse I have stolen.

Bigger

The other day someone asked how old my kids were and I automatically answered six and three.  The second the words were out of my mouth I realized my mistake.  They are not six and three, they are seven and four.

They are not who they were, they are something more.  They are bigger, older.  They are further away from that place where they fit neatly in my arms.  Now they sprawl across my lap or worse yet find their own spot.

Slowing it down, stopping time is not possible.  I know, I've tried.  I repeatedly asked Lion not to turn four.  "You are so perfect now" I argued.  "I sorry momma.  I turn four, I no know how to stop it."  It can't be done.  Bigger happens.  Older happens.

Bigger is good.  Older is good.  I have conversations with Bunny that astound me.  She understands so much.  I am beginning to share my interests with her in a way that was not possible before.  She, in turn, has opened her world to me.  The stories she tells, the secrets she shares are beautiful.  I am blessed with a glimpse of the woman yet to be, serious, silly, talented, exquisite.

Bigger is fun.  Older is fun.  Lion is pure joy.  He experiences life, he does not sit on the sidelines waiting for something to happen.  It is inspirational, something that in my 40 some years of life I have never really been able to get the hang of.  I want to nurture that.  I want to wrap that gift so that he can carry it with him.  Remember the time when you were getting bigger, remember that boy, be that boy always.

Bigger makes me nostalgic for smaller.  Older makes me miss younger.  But bigger also leads us to better.  Older leads to more.

Six became seven.  Three turned four.  Bigger.  Older.  Better.  More.