Since last Wednesday, the boys have been with their grandma and grandpa. And my house has been so quiet. I both enjoy and hate those times.
As you can imagine, I enjoy not having to yell at my kids. It’s nice not to constantly tell them to stop fighting and if they can’t figure out how to share no one gets the ______ (fill in the blank). The doors aren’t slammed every time they go in and out of the house, and the dogs aren’t barking every two seconds because one of the boys is messing with them. (They’re just barking every two seconds because someone walks by on the sidewalk in front of the window.)
But on the other hand, I also don’t get to hear them laugh or have fun with one another. They aren’t here to tell me stories about the video they just watched on YouTube or what they saw on their bike rides. Sure, I call them and hear about their day, but it’s not the same as having them in the same house. If you’re a parent, you know the love/hate moment I’m going through.
Because it’s been so quiet, I’ve had lots of time to get my writing done, and I’ve taken full advantage. I still feel like the story is taking f-o-r-e-v-e-r to write, but I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not in a race and progress is occurring quite nicely.
I’ve also had time to catch up on my TV shows and start a new series. Has anyone else seen Snowfall on FX? It’s incredibly fascinating.
I’m enjoying the quiet while I can (and as much as I can). My boys will be home soon enough, then everything will be loud once again.