Morning Noises

Sometimes, in the morning, Max will wake up and instead of being up and ready for the day he will request to snuggle me in our bed for a little longer. As I lay there with him I can hear Daniel in the dining room babbling as he explores. Kyle is at the table, studying scriptures. Occasionally I will hear him get up to help baby who inevitably traps himself under or behind a chair.

I don’t want to get out of bed partially because I stayed up too late but mostly because for a moment my life seems peaceful.

This is a direct contrast with the rest of my day. Battling with a tiny attorney for more snacks, less quiet time, and the ability to ride his bike whenever requested. In addition to that, baby seems to always want to nurse right when all of these requests are made. None of these things are bad, but they tend to dominate and swallow every moment.

My life is noisy. The crying, whining, and a constant “mom…Mom…MOM!” drown out my ability to think. It blinds me of my ability to appreciate that this is the sound of life of happening. This is the sound of children learning their way.

For a home. For a bed. For food. For work. For health. For love that fills it all.