Monday, June 3, 2013

Reacquiring Mom Hearing










"I have to go to work," Chris shouted.

"You need a fork," I screamed back.

"No," he yelled.  "(pause)....Work."

And so went many of the conversations between the adult Woods today.  Our discourse was disjointed, drowned out by the clamor of little voices.  I realized we're out of practice.  During the school year, we became accustomed to just one little boy running around home.  Quite become familiar.  We forgot how loud and lively a house can be when all four boys (plus play dates) thunder through the halls.  

The voices were mostly happy.  The newness of home was still fresh.  They discovered all the "fun" that lurks in the recesses of closets and sits nestled in garage bins.  A toy tub can be used as a rolling ride.  An Easter egg hunt is still fun in June.  Chalk and water can mix to create an eclectic driveway mural.

And so went most of the morning.

Around lunchtime, little friend Emma ran up the basement stairs wearing an expression mixed with exhilaration and fear.  She exclaimed, "Miss Becky, it's total mayhem downstairs.  Somebody might get killed."

I stopped fussing with lunch and listened, really listened.  The sounds from the basement sat at the level of a lively mosh pit or perhaps a roaring freight train (not angry sounds, just energetic).  It's funny; I hadn't noticed the noise.  My selective mom hearing was back.  I reacquired my ability to tune out little boy racket so as to preserve personal sanity.  

That's when I knew: I was ready for summer.  

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