My children are dreading the imminent return to school. Getting up early, wearing clothes (beyond pjs or pants only – boys), and the need to appear, if only for appearance sake, somewhat social. In actuality, my kids are really social. They can get along with anyone, except each other of course. I think the groans that follow any mention of the word school really stem from what comes in addition to school. With school comes soccer, homework, orchestra, an earlier bedtime and a lot less free time in general.
I, on the other hand, am counting down the second until school starts. I know that we have six days, eleven hours and twenty two minutes until I have my brood delivered to their respective campuses. Their return to school won’t make the volcano of laundry, my constant companion, any less overwhelming. And the the dishes, chauffering and general house-keeping will still be very present. BUT there will be one thing I haven’t experienced since… last Spring.
Drumroll please… silence.
Yes, silence. That underappreciated state of auditory rest that moms rarely enjoy. I mean you can plug yourself into ear buds or blast music, but that’s just to drown out the offensive sound – it’s not the same.
I will have almost eight hours free from the shrill dog-deafening shriek of my precocious seven year-old; free from my elder son’s continuous commentary on every Star Wars characters evolution… or explosions… or weaponry… Or farting – a source of never-ending giggles for both my boys. My lovely daughters, both bordering womanhood, provide a different sort of noise. They delight in eliciting the youngests shrieks, the complete and utter frustration of the other, and try my infinite patience with their charmingly erractic mood swings. Twenty-four hours can feel like fifty years.
So you see, I’m looking forward to Monday because of the silence. I will sit, enjoy some coffee, read a bit, and listen to the nothingness in a state of sheer bliss.
That’s not to say that four o’clock Monday won’t be just as sweet – for the exact opposite reason. Eight hours, alone and quiet, isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.
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