Today I’m grateful to featured on The Mudroom blog. Here is an excerpt of my article:
I saw my chance. Could I do it? Could I get away with two minutes by myself?
My two toddlers were glued to the TV screen watching Sesame Street. Maybe I could actually go to the bathroom alone. Perhaps I could have a moment of solitude.
But thirty seconds after I closed the bathroom door I heard a tiny knock. “Who’s there?” I called out.
“It’s me—cutie pie,” said a sweet little two-year-old voice.
Solitude and silence are rare commodities for mothers of young children. Hungry babies cry. Toy fire trucks whir and beep. Silence? What’s that? Toddlers cling to our legs. Infants demand to be held. Solitude? Not going to happen.
Now I’m on the other side of mothering. My children are grown and have moved out of the house. My house is quiet—sometimes too quiet. I bumble around in my big empty nest with physical solitude and silence as frequent visitors. Yet my mind is often noisy and I struggle with finding meaningful quietness.
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