It sounds horrible, but I’m not.  I love my kids, but by the time it’s bedtime, my brain is fried.  I NEED bedtime. I need the moment of silence for all the brain cells that died during the day.

My day starts at 6:30 a.m. and ends when I go to bed.  The small window of time between their bedtime and mine is precious.  Some nights I get more done than others, but one thing is for sure, I like it as quiet as possible.

Toddlers are tiny tornadoes.  When you have twin tornadoes, you know nothing but chaos.  Between work, raising the tiny tornadoes, and trying to find time to eat, shower, and keep the house from looking like an episode of “Hoarders”, my mind moves at a million miles an hour.  I’m always in a rush, yet running late. It’s a lot! So, I now cherish and appreciate the moments of silence that I get in the evenings.

You don’t really realize just how hard you’ve been going all day until the last Ric Flair “Whoooo” is hollered from a crib and the kids finally give up and go to sleep.  It’s like slamming on the brakes. You take that deep breath, take inventory of what did and didn’t survive the storm of the day, and you decide whether to ignore it, drink a glass of wine, go to bed, and try again tomorrow, or tackle it head on.  Hey, what’s one more task on the end of your thousand mile long to-do list?

How we spend our moment of silence isn’t important.  What’s important is that we have that moment. Whether you read, clean, or just sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the wall, all that matters is that you got to unwind.

Before the kids, I didn’t like silence.  Silence was boring. Now, I appreciate it for what it is.  It’s an opportunity to collect my thoughts. It’s a chance to take a minute for myself, to remember to breathe.  It’s peace. And, it’s knowing that we’ve all survived another day.