There seems to always be a lot of noise in my house.  A dog always has something to bark at, one kid is always yelling at another kid, and Jim is always trying to be heard over the cacophony, and me yelling at all of them to shut the hell up.  It’s a wonder anyone ever gets heard.

But then there are the quiet days.  The kids are at school, the dogs are curled up sleeping, and Jim is on his computer – with his headphones on.  It feels like I have the house to myself – no one to bother me, no on to interrupt my train of thought, and no one demanding something somewhere.

And I hate it.

I wander the house, looking for something to do – even when I have something to do – just to try and attract a crowd.  I start baking or cooking or making lunch, which brings the dogs running.  I open and close the refrigerator door, just to hear it close.  I even tap louder on the keyboard.

I love having all my kids home, even for the lengthy summer vacation.  After so many years of traveling, I love seeing Jim every day.

I am thankful for the quiet days, because they remind me of the great appreciation I have for living in a loud, crazy, kid filled home.

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