What I really want. . .
The sound of the entire lego bucket being dumped onto the floor and then the sound of little feet running back and forth in between bedrooms coercing siblings to come and play and build lego mansions and castles and things of gigantuous proportion are the sounds that wake me on this rainy, contemplative Saturday morning. I can’t remember the last time I woke to a “quiet” Saturday morning, but I wouldn’t trade the loud Saturday morning ruckus we have goin’ on here or any of our loud and busy days for anything.
The days are long and loud but the years are flying by quickly and quietly. This week the kids and I took a walk down memory lane in our photo albums and I saw the last 12 years of my life slip by in the 30 minutes of reminiscing through pictures. The roses, the ring, the proposal, the romance of those early days brought tears to my eyes and gratefulness to my heart. Then there was the white dress, the first kiss as husband and wife, Riviera Maya, Mexico and those silly monkeys at our resort. Our first house, first Christmas, the day we told our family we were expecting Abby, and the precious baby pictures anniversaries, birthdays and vacations and it truly seems like yesterday I was holding my first born and rocking her to sleep at night, I blinked and she is almost 8. Where did 8 years go? To be honest looking back through the last 12 years, the moments I have craved daily are the quiet moments but the ones I couldn’t live without are the loud ones.
My silly son at 2 years old climbing up my bookshelf, "Look mama, I spiderman.", The silly youngest putting a bucket on his head and walking around bumping into everything and making us laugh, the sound of my “Mommy” name being spoken in 3 different voices and in various tones and at various times of the day, the squeals of Christmas morning delight and so many more. . . so I am retraining my thinking and re aligning my heart to long for the loud, lego bucket dumping, dinosaur roaring - super hero flying- ballet and dance music cranked loudly kinds of days because it’s not the quiet I really want more of. . . it’s the loud.