I sat in silence tonight for no other reason than I don't get enough of it.

My husband was out of town for work, and I had just gotten the kids to sleep.

I could have taken a bath. It probably would have been interrupted.

I could've watched Bravo or MTV or E and gotten my reality tv fix. It, too, probably would have been interrupted.

I could have written, put words towards my second book, but my head wasn't in the game.

I could have done laundry. Lord freakin' knows I'm behind on that ish…but I didn't.

I sat my legging-donning, glass of wine drinking, typically overthinking a** on the couch, and parked it.

I ignored the tv remote on the table beside me and lost myself in the beautiful sound of absolutely 'elfin nothing.

No one crying

or whining

or fussing

or complaining

or asking me to do or get anything for them.

The sound of nothing sounded like heaven at that very moment.

But here's the truly wild, fudgin' fascinating thing about motherhood,

the incessant noise coming out of the beings we birthed,

that sounds like heaven too.

And when it’s lacking,

as much as I soak up the quiet,

I just as badly am itching for more of the noise—THEIR NOISE.

'Cause our kids,

with much intensity,

bring us from serenity to the brink of insanity back to serenity,

often without even trying.

I sat in silence tonight for no other reason than I don't get enough of it.

But, you can be your biscuit that I tire of it after a bit and want nothing more than for my quiet to be invaded by the very ones I created.

And that's why us mothers are such complicated creatures.

Because motherhood is complicated, and then there's us, just doing our darn best to wear it well.