Thursday, August 9, 2007

The Sounds of Silence

For the last three months I have awakened long before Hubby and Teen Angel and quietly, peacefully gotten ready for work. I like calm in my morning. In fact, I would prefer to have complete silence until I am ready to leave the house. I’m not a cheery riser. It takes me fifteen minutes to crawl out of my cocoon and put my feet on the floor once the alarm has rung. And I do need an alarm. I’m not one of those crazy people whose body adjusts to a certain schedule and awakes itself at the appropriate time. Pfffftt! Not happening. Never. I’ve worked all kinds of schedules and my body will sleep as long as it’s allowed, no matter what the clock says. Once I’m up, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to look at anyone. I just want to slip into the day at my own quiet pace. I’ve enjoyed that for the last twelve weeks...until today. My summer vacation from morning chaos ended on this first day of school.

Teen Angel started high school today, and I can already tell our morning routines are going to tangle on a regular basis. We share a bathroom, and we both need to get ready within the same hour. The fact that she wanted to make a good impression at school or at least not stand out in an embarrassing way added to the stress this morning. Apparently, I did not iron her shirt well enough because there was a small crease in the front of the shirt that was hardly noticeable to an adult but obvious to the teenage eye. It seems her belt couldn’t be adjusted right, and I may or may not have helped with that issue. I’m just not sure based on the response I got. Let’s just say I tried. Blemishes needed covering and hair was being tamed when I walked out the door. I put it in God’s hands, gave Hubby a kiss and wished him luck with the drive to school. That four minute drive can be tricky. Among the travesties he committed last year were: pulling up too close to the school doors in the rain, arriving two minutes too early and playing embarrassing “old man” music with the windows cracked.

Hubby called me immediately after the drop off to let me know that he had almost committed the worst offense imaginable to a fourteen year old. It seems the gas light in the van came on yesterday, but he got busy and forgot to fill up, so he almost ran out of gas….in front of the school….on Teen Angel’s first day of high school. Gasp! Can you imagine the drama that would have caused? It was bad enough when I drove her to school registration last week in Papa T.’s pickup truck with the cracked windshield. You would have thought I had hog tied her and rolled her down to the school in a barrel from the way she carried on. Running out of gas would have brought on screams heard in the next county.

Deep down I know I should relish the chaos. Four years from now, when she heads off to college, I will get all the silence I want. No “Good Charlotte” blasting at 6am. No rants over bad hair, and no arguments over clothing. I’ll long for some noise; for someone to debate the merits of Fergie’s new song with and for someone to tell me how ugly my shoes are. It won’t be there, and I’ll miss it. Silence is gilded.

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