There used to be a time, probably about ten to twelve years ago, that if you wanted to reach me the best way was to call me. The problem with phone calls, especially once you have children, is that it isn’t until you are on the phone that the children need you desperately. It is one of the Murphy’s Laws of parenting. This also applies to anytime you go to take a shower, bath, or sit down to relax.
Without fail, even still, when I am on the phone, my boys and my puppies become the neediest and loudest creatures on the face of the planet. No matter where in the house I hide, they will track me down. The matter of course is always urgent in nature, like needing more gems for mobile game, hunt a lizard (Athena) or to locate the Roku remote. Serious business that dad can’t resolve and that can’t wait for another minute.
My boys came with three volume settings: loud, louder and loudest yet. This comes in handy in restaurants and stores where they’ll make horrifyingly embarrassing comments that you hope and pray nobody overhears. Then you say prayer that if by chance they did overhear the comment, they didn’t judge you too harshly. It is also convenient for long car rides, which thanks to travel hockey we have many, where they can argue loudly for hundreds of miles as we drive across Florida.
Life in a house full of boys is only quiet when they’re sleeping or when they’re scheming. With the Mayor and Goalielocks, this can be a dangerous proposition. You never know what scheme they’re cooking up or what animal they’ve captured and hid somewhere in the house. As a boy mom, when there’s silence and they’re not sleeping, you know something is about to happen.
The truth of the matter is when the Mayor finally graduates and life quiets down, I think I’ll be a little lost. My days and nights are full of noise from the puppies to the mini hockey games upstairs to every interrupted phone call, but for almost eighteen years that’s all I’ve known. Until that day comes, I’ll enjoy the madness and the brief respite my yoga mat provides.