Sunday morning calm

I love Sunday mornings. I love getting up early, before everyone else to sit and soak in the quiet. We worked hard yesterday, so the yard and house look great. Rooms are tidy and uncluttered. And outside the weeds are pulled and the grass is freshly cut. All of the have to's have been taken care of and today we can play guilt free.

I can think of no better word to describe it than "delicious."

This is my me time, when I can sit in peace and collect my thoughts. No Mom, can I...?'s to interrupt the silence. And today, even the dog is content to lay quietly with her bone instead of scratching at the back door every 10 minutes.

I've often considered trying to meditate, but I doubt I could find time mid-week to make it a daily habit. And with a baby on the way, the quiet time I do get feels that much more like a luxury.

I'm not complaining. This is the life I signed up for. I love the energetic buzz of a houseful of kids and someday, when they're older, I'll welcome their friends too. I'll keep the fridge and pantry stocked with snacks and a key under the mat in hopes of being the house where everyone hangs out. (It'll satisfy my ulterior motive of keeping tabs on my teens, too.)

But I suppose, by then, I won't have any trouble getting a quiet morning -- they'll all be sleeping past noon and I'll be the one banging on their door, waking them up.

So, I guess for now, I'll savor these rare Sunday mornings, knowing some day I'll complain that the house is too quiet.