I just feel like writing

I have become quite fond of one of my evening routines.  It’s a routine familiar to all mothers.  It is the task at the end of the day that entails walking around the house replacing all items back in their proper location.  I use this time to wind down after all the kids are in bed.  Sometimes I do it quickly, anxious to spend my time on other things, but other times I stick headphones in my ears and listen to podcasts or music on my iPod whilst I meander around at a more mellow pace. 

More children means more mess and the routine continually gets more complicated.  Sippy in the sink, burp cloth in the laundry, books on the shelf, shoes in the closet, etc.  Inevitably I come across some random household item in some random place and I try to envision who was playing with it and why.  But since the imaginations of my children far out reach the scope of my own imagination it is usually futile.  One time Cameron and Eli were using socks as “orcas”.  Where they learned about orcas I can’t be sure.  In any case, finding these obscure “toys” serves as a reminder to me to be more involved in the daily adventures of my little boys. 

Last night Richard was at a church meeting and the kids were all tucked in so I opted for the slow pace, with music.  I have a real “pump-me-up” type playlist I use when the house is especially messy and I am searching deep for energy.  I was just finishing up and turning off lights when I decided to feed Miriam before I tucked myself in.  She had gone to bed unusually early so it had been awhile since she last ate, and so sometimes I do what I’ve heard called a “dream feed”.  I leave the lights off and try to feed her without actually waking her up.

For some reason I can not explain, Debussy’s Clair de Lune was oddly included in my housecleaning playlist.  As I sat in the rocking chair of Mira’s room, feeding my sweet baby in the stillness and darkness of the house, it began.  At first I was perplexed by the piano’s subtle notes, shockingly out of the “pump-it-up” context, but then my mind embraced it’s serene melody. 

Then for the next five minutes and thirteen seconds I experienced the most peaceful moment I have experienced in a really long time.  I can not explain the exquisiteness of those few minutes.  It was the kind of event that I probably could not dupilicate if I tried.  I will just have to tuck it away in my memory and think of it each time I hear that song. 

It was certainly a testament to me of the power of music. 

So I am off to iTunes to download Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, another favorite of mine, that along with Clair De Lune are meaningful to me because not only are they beautiful, but I have fond memories of my sister playing them on the piano in the home of my childhood.

3 thoughts on “I just feel like writing

  1. Jo, I love your blog because you have a good mix of talking about daily life, along with your own thoughts on life in writing. I started my blog a few weeks ago, but am still at a loss of how to really get started because I don't want it to just be a “pictures of Leo” journal, I want it to be a sort of outlet for myself as well. You know? We'll have to chat and you give me your ideas of how to accomplish this. k, that's all. Just wanted you to know how much I like your blog and stuff.Carly

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  2. I LOVE Claire De Lune! When Braden was only a few months old, we were living in NY right by train tracks and I would play Claire De Lune really softly in the background to help drown out the 'city' noise.

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  3. I read your blog rather inconsistently. I'll go for a couple of weeks clueless about what's up in the Birds' life, and then I'll have a mellow evening when nothing else is going on and I can sit down at the computer and catch up. Binge blog-reading. I'm no respecter of blogs in this regard. I only read three and I read them all in this same fashion.I enjoy all your posts, but every once in a while I'll read one that is such a fine piece of writing that I can't not comment. So here you are. This was such a fine piece of writing. The scenes were vivid to my mind's eye and your description of what you felt resonated with my own memory of such moments.

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