My mother-in-law likes to remind her children about how much of a handful they were when they were all youngsters. She does it in the most loving way possible, by recalling that she would have one of them read a story to the others. The story that was commonly read was Five Minutes’ Peace, by Jill Murphy.
When I was in my early twenties, I smiled and nodded as the family laughed every time this recollection came to light. It didn’t carry any weight with me, though I fully understood that a family with children will, at one time or another, be a bit chaotic.
Fast forward to age twenty-nine. I am now the mother of what I jokingly refer to as twins…
In September of 2014, I gave birth to a beautiful boy the same week my husband started his first year as a medical student. We had recently moved to Madison, Wisconsin where we have zero family, and zero friends. Aside from the occasional visits from my in-laws, I was more or less on my own as I started down the TWO rather bumpy roads that are motherhood and being the spouse of a medical student.
Now at the end of the M-1 year, and the start of what will be my husband’s only summer “vacation”, our son is 9 months old. I have come to fully and completely understand the giggles when my husband’s family recalls story time.
Six loads of laundry into my day, it is 1:30-ish in the afternoon. My husband and son are out for a walk while I finally get into the shower for my own sanity-claiming Five Minutes’ Peace.
