Pandemonium or Memories?
As I watched 
my husband hang up each of our daughters’ wedding pictures in our new home, I remembered all the laughter, joy, and craziness of their childhood.
In the quietness of our dream home, I am left with quiet memories of endless dishes, piles of dirty clothes, backpacks filled to overflowing, and always racing to get somewhere quick. It was a time we thought would never end. Continuous games, parties, and worry. Wishing for five minutes of peace and quiet, and telling myself someday I would have time to do all the projects I dreamed of.
My dream was to take a long, hot bubble bath in a dimly lit room. The bath that would soak all your stress away, with scented candles, bath oil, and music to relax your soul.
However, I had three vivacious daughters, who loved to sit around the bathroom telling me about their day. Entertaining me and one another with their newest jokes, stories and doing impressions of their teachers, boys, and friends at school that day.
As I look back I see that my daughters thought my quiet time was their time, because I was not talking on the phone, doing business, or attending to someone else’s needs. When I was in the bathtub under all the bubbles, my daughters knew they had my full attention.
