the quiet hour

It is a soft morning. The sun is high but doesn’t seem bright in the ever raining sky of Kent. We had a long night. I woke to what sounded like people moving furniture upstairs. It was 3am and some strong sentiments regarding my neighbors started to arise. Then I realized it was the boiler over heating. I went downstairs and saw that we had left the flu and the air flow (temperature regulator) fully open on the Rayburn before going to bed. This means that the temp was jacked up as high as it would go. The Rayburn heats our water and the water was boiling in the attic. After letting the water run for ten minutes and watching the brown sediment that was released from the boil fill the bathtub, I thought about the hour.

3am.

The quiet hour.

Once the boiler became still our house returned to silence. In a matter of months I may be up at this time feeding our kid. As it stands now, I am trying to respect the amount of time I am given to rest. I relish in my comfort as I wake and know I can go back to bed. I leave things on the ground, small things, choking hazards, and am thankful for the ability to be lazy. I compare my thoughts on this time to the question “What would you do if you knew you were going to die in a year?”. Now now then, I don’t associate having a kid with death. I think it is rare in life when you actually know a time line when your life is going to make a major change. I also think it is a good time to think about your Self, because as many parents tell me, you don’t get to very often once your little one is born.