Saturday mornings around here are usually filled with chaos, with noise and with quick demands as soon as the kids wake up for breakfast, then to go outside, or do something. Olivia doesn’t stay still. She is filled with noise, with energy, with chaos and with so much energy that at-times I find myself exhausted with it. She is never without a question, never without a scream of excitement and never less than a strong hurricane with her exuberant personality.
There’s nothing like the silence to allow you to appreciate the noise that your hurricane of a child makes.
Wrapping up a visit with friends last night, Olivia ran out of the house when she heard news that she had the option to sleepover at Grandma’s. An excited four year old ran down the street with her boots barely on, screaming hello to her Grandma and shouting to wait for her, she had to grab her pajamas.
This morning I was able to clean the entire downstairs floors, tackle three organization projects and do quite a bit of the laundry while Violet played Lego, played with her doll, laid on the floor and ‘read’ books for an hour and played beside me putting roller skates on for almost thirty minutes gave me lots of down time. As I type this, it’s just before eleven and the entire house is sparkling without any hurricane-messes. She’s gone to the bathroom twice, emptied her potty into the toilet and yelled ‘HANDS’ so I would come and help her wash her hands. Ten minutes ago, she laid herself down on the couch with her yellow blanket, thumb in mouth and went to sleep.
This child is the elusive self-cleaning-oven to my high-maintenance-hurricane.
The quiet morning when I powered through my to do list with a few dance parties when a great song came on our Every Summer Dance Party Songza playlist was fantastic, but amidst the calm, amidst the productivity, something was missing.