Heather Shuker
  • Throwing Lines
  • Ledgerock Pottery
    • Buy some pots
    • Pottery in the Wild
    • The Making of a Mug
  • About Me
  • FAQs
  • Throwing Lines
  • Ledgerock Pottery
    • Buy some pots
    • Pottery in the Wild
    • The Making of a Mug
  • About Me
  • FAQs

Throwing lines

Bedlam

4/3/2010

 
As a parent to three small children, I am no stranger to chaos. Clamoring, pounding and shattering comprise the auditory ambiance of my home. So one would think just adding more children would constitute more of the same. Such is not the case. My sister has four children of her own and together these little darlings form a band of something that is other; not quite children anymore. Rather, a pack of beasts that takes on characteristics of its own; moving like crows in a harvested corn field, following an invisible lead, bouncing from area to area as one, turmoil following them wherever they light. Now that they are a bit older they can be cajoled into cleaning up after themselves, a vast improvement to previous gatherings, but left unchecked a carefully cleaned home can be thrown into an unrecognizable disarray in a matter of moments, expected guests be darned.

With more children on the way, the decibel level isn't expected to return to a non-damaging degree until after lights out, mercifully sometime around 7:30 p.m. The saving grace this holiday weekend is the beautiful weather we've been blessed with. Faith is restored as the band of merry nymphs are sent outside into the sunshine to hoist their havoc onto the welcoming outdoors, deaf to their fracas and jubilee alike. That is until parched throats and tired legs drive them back inside with a whine that is a barely disguised desperate plea for a nap.

Much as calm isn't to be found during these occasions, it isn't really welcome here. The rowdy crew that pulses by is the life force of our family. Silence would come at a price, representative of a gathering drained of vitality. The grown-up time in the late evening is just that much sweeter once the quiet descends, after the last of the giggling has abated. So until then, we redirect and tolerate; in the back of our minds already predicting the nostalgia we will feel for these days when they are gone.
                                              

Comments are closed.
    Picture

    I like to throw things.

    Picture

    Archives

    October 2017
    May 2017
    January 2017
    November 2016
    August 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    February 2016
    September 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    August 2014
    June 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    December 2013
    September 2013
    July 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    October 2011
    July 2011
    June 2011
    March 2011
    January 2011
    December 2010
    November 2010
    October 2010
    September 2010
    August 2010
    July 2010
    June 2010
    May 2010
    April 2010
    March 2010

    RSS Feed

    Picture

     Subscribe in a reader

Proudly powered by Weebly