The Darbys: Make a Joyful Noise

In a house full of 7 young children, I have finally found a nice, quiet spot for just a few moments . . .

. . . but I don't know how to sit still and rest and be quiet, so why not catch up the blog . . .

My two little wild monkeys have FINALLY crashed after spending a couple of days with their 5 middle school-aged cousins. They tried so hard to hang, but their little bodies just can't do it yet. After a serious Mimi meltdown, she is sound asleep in Coco's bed. Whew.

In case I haven't told you, I flew to Nashville this past Monday. With my two toddlers. BY. MYSELF.

And no drugs were involved. Just snacks and cartoons and prayer.

But we made it, and I will TOTALLY be doing that again. Not half as bad as I thought it would be. Clint was able to go to the gate with us, so I basically only had them by myself for about an hour and a half. The flight attendants and captain were ridiculously sweet as were most of the surrounding passengers on the plane. But OF COURSE there was this one lady who sat right behind us who was ill and grumpy and whined, whined, whined. My children were much better behaved than she was, so maybe I'm not such a bad parent after all.

The only moment of the trip where my palms got sweaty was the few minutes before we boarded the plane. Mimi saw people ahead of us in line going toward the plane and was so worried that they were leaving us. She hasn't grasped the idea of lines yet and how there was room for everyone. So she began freaking out, and all of the sweet folks around us assured her that they wouldn't let the airplane take off without her -- she was the star guest. And then several other passengers told me how they have small children or have had small children (or have friends with small children, or whatever they could think of to make my hands stop shaking) . . . and then all my worry melted away. My crazy kids couldn't possibly be the worst children to ever fly.

Do the rest of you get nervous about times like this? We recently invited friends to dinner with us, and the mom commented that she didn't want to be that person who brings a baby to an innappropriate place. I assured her it would be fine, and it totally would have, but I knew what she was thinking at that time. She wanted to avoid the stares and rolled eyes and flared nostrils from others who don't love the noise of children so much.

But when my children and I were settled in our seats eating crackers and cookies and pretzels and watching a Winnie the Pooh movie, the last passenger chose the middle seat behind us, which was the last on the plane. Well, it wasn't quite the last because there actually was an empty seat next to me . . . but it only took a couple of seconds to understand why she didn't choose that one. After she knocked out everyone around us with her bulky bags and then gave them a half-hearted apology, she turned to the cute guy by the window and began attempting to flirt. She asked where he was from, commented on the football team on his hat, and then bragged about something expensive she owned. Then she began griping about how she was a terrible flier, and was mad at a lady at the front of the plane who was sitting next to the window with "her dumb kid" and wouldn't budge. Out of the corner of my eye (I just wrote that like I casually glanced, but you know I was totally spying) I saw the guy roll his eyes and look out the window.

And then I realized something. Every time Mimi and Mack made a peep on that plane some sweet soul turned around to give them (or me) a smile or a wink. Not everyone loves the sounds of children, but NO ONE loves the sounds of a complaining adult. Especially when that adult is complaining about an innocent little toddler.

I am going to carry this lesson with me this week . . . no matter how many children are crammed in the house with me. I will encourage my noisy children and nieces and nephews to keep making noise and make it joyfully. That noise means they're healthy and happy and how can I not love that?

I can't wait to catch you up on the rest of our time in the south, but for now I must watch the rest of the Toddlers and Tiaras marathon with my nieces, who will no doubt have the best commentary ever.

And Mimi wanted me to introduce the family boxer, Lucy.