No noise

My house is completely quiet. I can hear the ticking of clocks. I didn't even know we had clocks that tick. This is how out of touch I am with quiet. I am loving it...and I'm slightly unnerved by it. I'm aimlessly walking throughout the house picking up my family's ill placed shoes and returning them to shoe trees in their rooms. I'm using this time to fantasize what life would be like if I had more time in the quiet like this. Someday I will visit an Ashram in India to give myself enough quiet time to choke a chicken.

Ava is at school, perhaps on a field trip perhaps not. Picking pumpkins in a mid-western corn/pumpkin field in the rain does not sound like a smashing good time to me...but hey, perhaps her 21 year old teacher is more energetic and saw fit to let the 15 kindergarteners hop the bus to pumpkinville. Is it evil of me to secretly pat myself on the back for declining to chaperone that one?

Liv is at mom's morning out/preschool. Yes, we continued and last week she turned a huge corner in the "preschool is not infact hell" saga. When I casually explained to the director, as we were about to quit, that if only there was a male teacher perhaps she would transition easier.

For whatever reason, Liv is not too terribly keen on new women she meets but honestly hasn't seen too many men she doesn't instantly fall in love with. Yes, I've repeatedly asked her pediatrician and a developmental therapist about this quirk and they do not seem to think it implies an attachment disorder for which we could later regret not seeking treatment for. I hope they are right.

Ms. Director quickly perked up and said, "Well, with your permission I could bring Mr. Roger in the room." Mr. Roger is a retired police chief who works at the church doing music ministry for children. He has a special needs daughter and has a special place in his heart for little kids. I quickly said let's give it a shot. Last week when we arrived at preschool there was Mr. Roger, a white haired gentleman in a tie. He wears a tie to preschool. With her two female teachers and the director watching from behind Liv jumped out of my arms into the strange Mr. Roger's lap. I shook my head and sighed. She wimpered a bit as I left but when I picked her up there was a glowing report, everyone, including my little Olivia was all smiles. Ms. Director met me at the door and reported that Mr. Roger only stayed 20 minutes and then transitioned out of the room. Livi was happy the rest of the day complete with eating at the table and participating in playtime and crafts. Today at drop off she again leaped into Mr. Roger's arms with no crying. Ms. Director summed it by saying in all my years of doing this I have never seen anything quite like it. I turned on my heels and said, "Yes, Olivia can be a complicated woman."

Oh, and the Muffin Man is out for the day on business. So there is no chatter from his downstairs office. Despite my pleas for him to use his headset..he still insists on gracing the entire house with his booming voice while talking widgets. When Liv starts speaking in sentences I'm sure she will be selling tools to reps. from Kansas City quoting pricing increases and forecasting trends.

There you have it, that leaves me...on the cul-de-sac in my state of quiet rumbling from room to room picking up shoes. For another hour. Until I start the process of picking up little people to come home and litter my floors with shoes and crackers.

Excuse me while I go get some quiet food. I want nothing that crunches to ruin the quiet. I'll sit in a chair alone, with no one using my legs as their launching pad to sit on top of errr...I mean next to me. I think I will choose the chair that is next to the ticking clock and count my 53 more alone quiet minutes.