Stormy Weather

It's been raining a lot around here lately. The kind of warm rain that comes with spring and, though it keeps us from coloring on the sidewalk or playing in the sandbox, is somewhat enjoyable because it gives us a reason to pause. To quiet ourselves a bit and exercise our imagination.

There was a break in the storms yesterday, which made me very happy because our evening agenda was a little full and dry, warm weather ususally means the kids will play nicely outside while Nate and I run around like madmen inside to get everything done as quickly as possible.

How's that saying go? "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans."

We all had late bedtimes the night before - and the lack of sleep had caught up with Lindsey. She didn't want to be inside or outside. She didn't want to be held or let down. She was just too tired to want anything. So I just had to let her be mad at the world and cry it out while we tried to pull dinner together, unpack lunch bags and put away groceries. Simultaneously, I had to remember to acknowledge Ryan's monologue every now and then in order to keep the script flowing and not have it stuck on repeat.

The crying baby, the monologue that needs acknowledgement, the boiling water, the recipe with too many ingredients requiring too many measuring utensils, the beeping microwave, the whir of the exhaust fan. It was sensory overload and it fried my circuit.

But just as the clouds roll in to signal the start of rainfall- the cachophony of life's noises indicated bedtimes were near.  And, like rain, though our bedtime routine keeps the kids from coloring on the sidewalk or playing in the sandbox, it gives us a reason to pause - quiet ourselves a bit.

That night, The Cat in the Hat was Ryan's book of choice. Fitting, considering the storyline seemed to mimic reality at the moment. As I read lines about a fish in a pot and Thing One and Thing Two, Lindsey came in, with her first smile of the night, to give hugs and kisses before begging for her bed. And Ryan, who had actually been a charm (monologue and all) that night, sunk deep into my lap and gave a big sigh.

Outside, the rain had returned. Inside, the stormy weather had blown through and left, in its wake, a sense of calmness and serenity.

Bring on the sunshine.