But being engulfed in silence.

Don’t get me wrong… my house is loud, crazy, chaotic, and frankly, I love it. BUT, there are times when I want to talk, and the noise seems to stop. Time stands still.

My husband is a quiet man for the most part. He is vocal in expressing his love for me, and for our family. He laughs readily and has no problem joking around with the boys, BUT he isn’t perfect… no one is. And Heaven forbid if I call him on that! As soon as I express my displeasure or annoyance, my anger at something, he shuts down. The arms cross, and this wall seems to go up right before my eyes. It is a wall that after almost 12 years I still don’t know how to break through. I admit that when I get angry, I can hold a grudge… BOY, can I hold a grudge! But the problem is the same issues have plagued us for years… and there are times when I just want to put some closure to them. I want a solution to the problems and issues that arise in our relationship. I hate that I get mad, I tell him, he shuts down, and I get worn out. Because the next time something happens, I remember that the last time this happened NOTHING GOT SOLVED!

My boys are very similar to my husband - though they have a tendency to get upset at times. But to be totally honest, they are all momma’s boys, and not necessarily through any choice of their own. I spoil them. I indulge them. And as a result when mom isn’t happy, it crushes them. Especially Joe. He is such a good kid, so sweet and thoughtful, and when he disappoints me, it just crushes him. As a result, he is equally hard on himself. Knowing this, I hate sharing or expressing my disappointment, but there are times when it is just necessary, and what can you do?!

My oldest, Corey, is very much like me… bad temper. So when I get mad at him, it goes one of two ways… either we argue, or he shuts down (yep, just like his dad) and stands there looking like a powder keg waiting to explode. On the rare occasions that Corey is ashamed at something he has done, he looks at me with these big blue eyes, and I am reminded of the little boy he once was. The tears start to swim in his eyes, and my heart melts.

Hayden and Addi are the same way. Dean is too little. Of course, anytime he is hurt or upset, he has six people running to see if he is okay.

As previously noted, on a day to day basis, my house is loud. It is crazy and chaotic… but I do love it. Once in awhile, I am actually home alone and the silence is deafening. I barely know what to do with myself. Don’t get me wrong… I can work on my cross stitch, my writing, or (heaven forbid) clean the house… but I would much rather hear the boys laughing with one another or hear the explosions of one of their video games. My body is used to the chaos. I can tune it out if need be, but for the most part, I soak it up… I simply love it.

But every once in awhile, momma gets mad. And when momma gets mad, things shut down. The older boys recognize the signs and are quick to remove themselves from the situation, Hayden is still young and usually responds by telling me he loves me, and I should “please not be mad.” Sometimes that is all it takes. I look down and see those big eyes staring at me with such love and trust that I simply can’t stay mad. But other times I have to take a deep breath and tell him to go upstairs, and it is then that he gets it. Mommy is mad. I better leave.

Since the end of May 2008 my husband and I have been dealing with a situation (more on that later). It isn’t an easy or simple one. In fact, it has caused a lot of problems. My husband and I have had some ugly, ugly fights. More than once I have questioned whether or not our marriage would make it. The older boys understood the situation a bit better. They understood my anger, my husband’s anger, our frustration, but Hayden heard the yelling. It scared him. And when the dust finally started to settle, and I looked into my little boys eyes, it pained me to see what I saw there. I saw a fear that his mommy and daddy were mad at each other, a fear that this entire world would change, and that he had no control over it. So to compensate for that, he clings. My anger was the loudest, and I think, in his mind, I was the one that would destroy everything he finds comfort in, so he clings to me. He has taken to repeating himself constantly as if seeking reassurance from me that I will do what he wants me to do. When I get up in the early morning, he is the first one down, even if he lays down on the sofa and simply falls asleep holding my hand. He needs that reassurance that I am there. That mommy won’t leave.

It is those moments, before the sun has risen, and it is still dark outside, and I am laying on the sofa holding my little boy to me, that I realize sometimes the quiet, the calm, is what speaks the loudest. It is in the quiet that you can take a step back and see what you have, what your anger might destroy, and you make your choice… to forgive or to stay angry. And if you listen carefully, you will always find your answer in the silence.