Everyone always tells me someday I’ll miss the noise— the noise of carpools, the noise of dinner preparations, the noise of chore-assigning, the noise of playdates, the noise surrounding me as I plan our menu, schedule our week. It baffles me how I could possibly miss all of that!
When I sit and think about the community Paul and I have built within the walls our home, it feels good, and I can forget about the headaches and stress along the way. I tell people I am an introvert, but I think the opposite is true. While it’s true I crave quiet in the midst of crazy, I realize how quickly I grow bored in the quiet. I yearn for a measured amount of chaos and crazy. Measured, I said. Measured.
That’s the thing— I don’t know how to measure the appropriate amount of crazy in my life. I don’t know what my exact threshold of noise tolerance is. All I know is this: it’s the now, it’s my life, and I have so much to be grateful for.