So loud. It’s so very loud in here. I told the kids we were taking a “mental health day” from school today because Mommy is about to lose it with all the stuff she’s got to do. I made them a list of things that would be helpful if they did and asked them to get to work and give me 30 minutes of no questions while I sewed up a whale costume for my youngest.
That’s right. A whale costume. For AWANA they are supposed to dress up as any Bible character they want tonight. She chose the whale or “big fish”. I mean, really? These guys seriously overestimate what I’m able to do with a sewing machine. I can barely thread the thing.
Here’s what I expected to happen today: The boys would zip through their list in the hopes that they’d get to play something electronic when they were done. I would say yes and be able to finish my list in peace and quiet because the girl would naturally want to do whatever her brothers are doing.
Here’s what actually happened: All three piddled around cleaning their rooms and sort-of cleaned the basement. They are just now (at 1:30) getting dressed to take the dog for a walk and in the meantime they’ve been singing as loud as possible, asking me to check off AWANA verses, marching around the house, cheering about whatever it is they are eating at the moment and basically just being weird. I mean, I’ve never heard some of these sounds before. Not one of them has asked me if they can play the Wii or iPad or anything. Weird.
So, while this list would’ve been easier to finish if it were quiet, here’s my little secret: I love the noise. I love when they imagine and pretend and make messes. I’d love it more if they cleaned it up, but I’ll take what I can get for now. I love when I don’t have to scold them into being children. When I don’t have to tell them all the reasons why they should use their imaginations I consider it a good day. No, a great day.
Here’s to childhood, that glorious, magical time filled with wonder and awe and silliness. Here’s to the loud and the messy and the ridiculous. Here’s to the forts carefully crafted from sheets and blankets, the table piled high with paper and paints and markers and glitter, and a sewing machine churning out each creative whim.
Beacause nobody remembers their best day of television.