By Robin Kaye
Lately, it seems as if the only thing I’ve pursued is an hour of peace and quiet. My life has been a little out of control—especially on the weekends. My daughter, Twinkle Toes, is in Central Pennsylvania at dance camp for five weeks and needs to be picked up every Saturday morning. My son, a Boy Scout Camp Counselor for seven weeks, needs to be picked up every Saturday afternoon on the Eastern boarder of Pennsylvania and Maryland, making it a four and a half hour loop from start to finish.
We then feed the Boy Scout the equivalent of a week’s worth of food, help him do his laundry, and return him to work no later than noon on Sunday—only a three hour drive round trip. For Twinkle Toes, it’s an early Monday morning run to Central PA. My husband and I do ten and a half hours of driving in three days. It is no wonder I’m having such a difficult time getting anything done.
If the driving wasn’t enough to get to me, the state of my household would. A few weeks ago, my Domestic God/husband received a call from his mother telling him she was sending us furniture. So, after ten years of using my living room as a storage shed, my husband was on task and finishing it so that we’ll have a place for his mother’s furniture. (I won’t mention that my grandmother’s furniture has been waiting under sheets for the living room to be finished since we moved in.)
At first, I was a bit peeved that one phone call from his mother could do what I hadn’t been able to accomplish for ten years, but then what was the point? At least the living room was taking shape and not a moment too soon. After I thought about it, I was thrilled that my days of getting kicked out of my own office so DH and one or more of my kids could watch a Harry Potter marathon were numbered.
Right now, I’m writing my blog while sitting on my bed with ear plugs in so that I can drown out the blaring of a Harry Potter movie coming from my office, the Friends DVD playing on a computer in my dining room, and Rock Band – the Beatles version being slaughtered in my family room.
I guess the pursuit of happiness for me requires earplugs. And, now that I am blissfully deaf, I’ve finally found an hour of peace and quiet to write this blog.
“Huh? What did you say? I can’t hear you dear. I have my earplugs in.”