The Party That Never Quits

We're moving.

Not any time greatly soon, we've been renting my mothers house while she's been in England these last two years, and she gets home in 2 months.

One could say both Adam and I like to be prepared.

Either that or we know how spectacularly we can procrastinate until we only have 4 days to pack up a house of 6 kids.

Needless to say, we've begun collecting boxes and as of last night, started putting things away.

We are loving it.

While we are incredibly grateful that we had mums place to move into, it has been the most trying two years as a family to date. Mum's house is.... small, to put it nicely.... and it has been really hard squeezing six children into a house built for three people.

Did I mention there's no back yard?

Anyway, we are so excited to move to a bigger home. One where we can have a bedroom. Sleeping on the lounge room floor was fun for about a week. One where I can send the kids outside to run off some steam.

One where their fighting isn't magnified by the closeness of the walls.

The hardest thing these last two years has been the noise. The relentless noise of cooped up kids with cabin fever. I am so looking forward to having my sanity back. There is nothing worse than constant bickering, screaming and wailing.

As a singer and generally all-round musical person, I am sensitive to noise. Being an INFP personality only compounds this. I was talking to a dear prayer warrior friend at church the other week and I told her that if it was a happy noise, I wouldn't mind the volume so much. But it's not happy noise. It's bad noise.

It's not just the kids either. While I'm feeling like every sound wave is ramming itself into the side of my head and I'm sick and tired of their constant at-each-other-ness and zero capabilities of working anything out on their own without shrieking at each other or physically fighting, I must be honest and admit that I add my own voice to the fray.

Cutting words.

Dismissive words.

Screaming.

Swearing.

Often simultaneously.

Children learn what they live.

I know I am incredibly undisciplined in this area. And though the Bible tells us that taming the tongue is impossible (James 3:8), I can tame my heart, or at least allow Jesus to do it for me. And in doing so, it will check my temper, and allow me to respond, rather than react, and at least bring the decibels down a little bit.

Adam and I really sat down a few months ago and tried to work out where our home life all went to pot in this regard.

The answer was so simple.

We moved from a house with a backyard bigger than the block this house is on now.

Our children need to run.

This was proven to such an extent I was nearly blinded by the shattering light bulb above my head, when we took the kids out to a friends property for a birthday party.

They did. not. stop. running.

We arrived there at 3:30. From the minute they were out of the car, they were gone. I didn't see them again. They didn't even come to eat.

This is a big deal.

I called them at seven to tell them it was time to go, thinking I'd need at least a half hour to get them gathered and in the car.

Five minutes later, they were all packed up in the car, not one whine or tear to be seen.

Huh!

Fancy that.

We also realised, Adam and I, that as two introverted parents, with predominately extroverted kids, we do not work well in close environments. We are all up in each others business too much.

There is no where to go and be alone.

The kids share rooms. We don't have one.

Sometimes, we need somewhere to go and have a time out. Sometimes, when Adam comes home, if he calls me, I'll sneak out the front, and when he arrives, we'll just sit in the car for 10 minutes before we brave the pit.

We are standing on Words given that God will provide us with a house. With space, so we can grow.

And that is a good noise.