Silence Descends Upon Me

Silence.

No TV, no radios, no teenager's loud boisterous voices, no squabbling, no fussing, no yelling demands placed upon me, no loud video games.

The school bus has 'em.

Yolie drove Tabby and Nando with CJ and drum roll....Mae on her first day of kindergarten.

Daniel ate supper with us, dispensing the same advice I often give, but coming from a man dressed in his army clothes after acting as commander for his guard unit tells them all, "Remember act right, everything follows you. Make Mom proud."  They soak up his attention.

My dogs are all downcast, they love the excitement of the kids being home.  In comparison to the ball tossing, rambunctious wrestling kids, I'm a drag, weeding in the hot sun, the dogs won't even follow me outside.  Lolling around in the house, literally their ears perk to attention at 3 when they hear the distant rumble of the school bus tires way down on the dirt road, the sound carrying through the trees up to our home, dogs jumping up, tails wagging, waiting at attention by the back door,

I revel in the silence, find it ever so soothing, I can clean without folks following me around dirtying up more dishes.  They'll be exhausted tonight, everyone had a tough time falling asleep last night, 6:30 this morning came way too early for them.  We have Youth Group and the Children's Church Swim Party this evening for Tabby and Nando.

I'm swamped with that which I didn't get done what with everyone underfoot all summer.  Walking down my long hallway, I see paint jobs begging for action, I'm still saving up for four new bedroom floor replacements, and really, I'd like to just curl up and read some of the many free downloaded ebooks I have awaiting, but I can catch up on podcasts at least as I work.  All summer I don't listen to them, the podcasts, as the kids need me to not be plugged in and distracted.

So now I have 180 child-free days, from 7:30 until 3 when first load arrives home.  At four, the rest of 'em straggle in.

"We're going to Edisto Island Beach again, right?" a couple of 'em asked me this morning, making a mental note about that which to look forward to, and daydream about, for the end of the school year that hasn't even begun.

Except for Sabrina, who was a 4th grader when she arrived, the rest of the kids - Martin, CW, Allen, JoJo, Lily, Tony, Jack, Tabby and Nando have had the blessed benefit of attending K-12 with the same kids in the same schools.  Nowadays not many children anywhere get to attend school and graduate with the same kids they've known since kindergarten.  Chuy and Scotty have been here since their first grade years as well, now 11th and 8th graders respectively.

Same home, same church, I've worked hard to instill consistency, stability and security in once majorly traumatized children.  Most of the ones still at home were the youngest in their original birth sibling groups.

I just talked to Yolie, reminding her that she was providing the same thing for her children, same home, same school K-12.  Her husband, Chuck, also attended k-12 here, and still has his same childhood friends.

I literally had almost zero jitters this morning amongst the kids, instead there was the normal first day of school excitement, their once raging fears that used to be manifested in acting out behaviors now calmed.  Amazing is the word I was thinking earlier this morning.

JoJo and Lily both came home last night and read their English Lit books completely through, Night by Elie Wiesel, as advised by their teacher yesterday at Open House.  I expect this of Lily, but JoJo's always been behaviorally challenged, however he's way smarter than he acts.

And this?  I don't know if I've ever cooked a meal without JoJo and Allen karate kicking or wrestling each other in the kitchen as I work, it's just what they do.  Emotional Twins, very, very attached to each other, attuned to their weird respective moods, as well as those of the other.  Uncannily prescient, but only for the other one, the two youngest in a sibling group of 7, now they are in tenth and eleventh grades.