less is more

there is a bin of wooden puzzles for toddlers on the shelf in the playroom here at home. one of the puzzles has a motion sensor with pictures of animals that make sounds when you put them in the correct spot. there is a parrot, a hamster, a frog, and some others i can’t remember. we haven’t played with the puzzles in a few months, but today as i sat on the other side of the room and looked at my computer screen the frog spot on the puzzle began to ribbit. this happens at random times and none of us really know why. we’re a little freaked out by it, but we’re also used to it.

in any case as i sit here at my desk working i realize that that ridiculous frog ribbit from the puzzle is the only sound i hear. gunter and annika are at school. harper and amelie are asleep. it’s three thirty and i started my day at 7:00. feeding kids breakfast, getting them dressed, reminding the older ones of their chores, cleaning up, playing with the younger two while tom drives the older two to school. next we take turns showering, tom and i, i get dressed, put away several days worth of clean laundry that has been sitting in a basket in the girls’ room. at 10:30 tom and the girls take me into dc where i teach a class on starting babies on solid foods. the class goes for two hours and i can barely get out all my information. the people attending the class ask lots of questions, they learn things, they take notes and go home to think about how better to handle this awesome task of feeding their children.

i come home and take amelie upstairs for her nap. my mom watched the girls while tom headed to work. i devoured a sandwich, checked and answered e-mails. i began typing this post.

i heard the ribbit again just now.

i have an hour to start thinking about and preparing dinner, getting dressed for work at the restaurant, getting the girls up from their naps. i’ll bring the girls to tom who will have all four children until bedtime while i am at work for several hours. and today is an easy day. like ships passing in the night. tom said to me recently,

-it’s like tag team single parenting.

i am not kidding you i just heard the same puzzle make another sound.

-meow, meow.

so apparently there’s a cat piece as well.

a siren sounds outside and it wakes harper up. the wind blows, she fusses in her half-sleep.

the noise begins again and i begin to tighten up, tense my shoulders, hunch over. it occurs to me now listening to this possessed puzzle across the room that i think it might be helpful if our lives had less noise. less running. less drama. less whining, less plastic, less reminding each other of schedules, less obligatory goodbye kisses on the cheek as we rush out the door.

and more quiet, more together, more texture, more sitting on the couch in each others’ arms, more discussion of hopes for the future, more relationship and more sunshine.

more.

-ribbit.