Gratitudes. / The Extra Hour.

Our house is a busy one. Four children. Two grown-ups. An occasional grandparent or two. The sometimes spaniel. Friends. Tap shoes. Country music. Homework. Hustle bustle.

We are always coming and going. A schedule to keep. Dinner to prepare. Notes to sign. Babies to bathe. Teenager to taxi. Dishes to wash. Sheets to change.

It's called organzied chaos. What time is dance today? Guitar lesson is over when? Who's picking you up? What time will you be home? You need to eat. You need to take out the trash. Please clean your room. Please brush your teeth.

We like it this way. We have grown so accustom to the comings and goings of six people, we often do not know what to do with ourselves when the day ends. I often think it's impossible for Josh and I to find anything interesting on television to watch - because how could a television show possibly compare to what a normal day entails around this place? Seriously. Sitcoms and reality shows ain't got nothin' on us, baby.

I rise earlier than anyone else. If I was a smart woman, I would use this time for laundry folding, or grocery list making. Sometimes I do. Because apparently, sometimes I am a smart woman. Only sometimes. Mostly I use this time just listening to the quiet. Silence amazes me now. Soaking it in recharges my Head of Household Battery.

I am grateful for my quiet hour. The hour before The Toddlers start asking for cookies. The hour before I am asked if these jeans look okay twenty-two times. The hour before Jordin can't find her homework, which is neatly tucked away in her bookbag. The hour before anyone needs breakfast or money or socks. My little quiet hour. Where there is no sound, other than the fire going and the coffeepot brewing.

The. Hour.

And by the time it's over... I am pacing the floor, anxiously awaiting the life - hustle bustle and all - to begin again. I love it this way.