Last Saturday night my children had a sleep over at my parents house. Jim and I went out for his birthday. A well deserved and needed date. Great night. Great food. The best thing was waking up in the morning, having a cup of coffee and knitting in a quiet house.
Quiet time.
As the mother of children who did not nap during the day I tried to have them take some "quiet time" in their rooms. Relax. Away from stimulation of the big world around them. It always helped them behave better, sleep better. Most times it worked, although getting them to rest at the same time was a trick I never quite mastered.
Reflecting back, the quiet time really was not for them. It was for me. I have always yearned for quiet. I drive to and from work in a quiet car. No radio. Just me and my thoughts. That is noisy enough.
I spend my day at work listening to teens and their problems. "Allison, can I talk to you." "Allison, I have a question." "Allison can you do this or that?" Then I rush to the bus stop, get the children and hear "Mom, mom, mom, mom...." Kids have needs. Now. They don't wait. At work and at home I feel as though I have to respond right away. My mind and my mouth don't stop. Literally. I have made the connection that if I can't fix a problem, stop a temper tantrum, save the world - I eat. It is an automatic response. What I really need is Quiet Time....
So, with this realization I have enlisted my family in helping me. At the dinner table last week I talked about everyone recognizing signs in me when I needed a break. A time out. My voice getting louder, pacing - and that I would then tell people I needed some quiet and some peace to take care of myself. I would then go outside, upstairs, away from the chaos. Everyone agreed.
Nice plan, tough to do.
I get caught up in the little things in life. Work. Dishes. Laundry. Money. The rules. Pick up your clothes, brush your teeth, don't push your sister/brother - It is all so overwhelming in any given moment. I forget to take a breath and appreciate all that I have. When I am quiet I am filled with the good. Filled with peace. Quiet. Silence.
Yesterday, William looked right at me and said, "Mom, looks like you need some peace." Wow, a six year old actually gets it.
I listened and went to my room.
