Quiet in the Chaos

Truth be told, I have no idea what quiet is anymore. Needless to say, I had quite a sensory shock on my arrival home from the hospital. For the first few days I could feel myself literally shutting down to block the abundance of noise going on around me. Though sitting in the hospital for all that time was lonely - on the flip side, it was quiet. I can't recall a single day that my ears rang. There has been a sunny day or two when Philomena has been asleep and Nicholas was napping and the four older ones were playing outside that it was quietER in here; still there are the sounds of the dishwasher running and my washer which ca-clumps when it's obviously unbalanced (I can relate), or one of the four dogs barking or whining. One would think that at 2 am I would find the quiet I am searching for, but alas, not so. Last week a mysterious beeping noise started to sound within the confines of the house. We checked our cellphones, we looked for beeping toys hidden underneath beds or in hampers, checked the telephone batteries; the beeping could not be located. We did eventually figure out that it was coming from the attic and was our carbon monoxide detector by the furnace which was beeping at 20 minute intervals. This detector is hardwired into the alarm system and apparently was in "service needed" mode. It's always something. Kudos to the person who invented those spongy ear-plugs...a lifesaver and world-blocker-outer indeed.

Philomena is growing nicely and has blended right into her new overstimulating household. We were discharged from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit on Tuesday, March 3rd. It was a long three weeks in there. Her main issue was feeding. She was labeled a "poor feeder." Oh to have that diagnosis. :) I still have trouble getting her to finish her entire bottle, but she's getting there. Only two days ago was she even due to be born so I think she is doing well considering how early she was.

On a lighter note, there are moments in my sleep deprived day that make me chuckle. As I was mopping the kitchen floor I hear a commotion going on downstairs. An obvious fight has broken out between John Paul and Isabella. John Paul comes storming up the stairs and marches into the kitchen and proclaims, "Bella really needs to change her altitude!" I had to laugh. "Send her to the roof for 20 minutes and see if she changes." This statement was met with a blank stare as he turns on his heels and scampers back downstairs to instuct his sister to go to the roof for a while to change her altitude. You have to laugh.

Last evening, as I was quizzing Isabella for her First Holy Communion interview, which occurs on Saturday morning, John Paul announces that he wants to be quizzed too. Okay, so I ask him, "Tell me the 10 Commandments." He ponders this a while and blurts, "You should commit your neighbor's wife." His sister was quick to correct him, "No, no, no...that's the LAST commandment John Paul, not the first." It's a good thing our neighbors cannot commit us based on the commandments because I would be sitting beside a window in a clean, sterile building looking out over the grounds of the funny farm in my newly pressed, crisp straigh-jacket.

Listening to the kid's conversation on the commandements made me think of my oldest daughter when she was learning her prayers. She proudly announces to me one day that she knows the Our Father. She begins, "Our Father who art in Kevin..." Priceless.