I never knew I was such a quiet person until I had a baby. Now that we’re alone together all day, I’ve started realizing how quiet the house is. If he’s hanging out in the swing or his chair beside me while I work, everything is still and peaceful. People are telling me this is a bad thing. The world I’m creating around my baby is too calm. Apparently, I need music going, noise, lots of chaos, not this peaceful little world that I live in. People scold me: “If you had another child…blah blah blah…”
Guilty, I turn on music. Try to create a little noise. Forget about work! Forget about the way he smiles as he looks at me, for now his favorite person in the world, with peace and stillness all around us. Writing? Does it have to be a quiet business? Okay, no, I agree. I can do it with voices and life and color in the background.
He needs to know the real world, people say. And apparently, the real world is noise. Lots going on. Not this quiet companionship between mother and baby.
But isn’t this the real world? It’s the real world I live in. What’s wrong with peace and quiet, anyway?