I wanted the children to stop talking just for ten minutes

Dear Delyara, It wasn’t because they were naughty. That made it harder. They were just being themselves. Telling me things, interrupting each other, asking questions, changing subjects halfway through a sentence, calling me from different rooms as if my attention were endless and naturally elastic. Normal children. Normal evening. Normal noise. And still, by half-past six, I could feel a desperate need for quiet in my bones. I didn’t get it. I just kept answering. That’s one of the parts of motherhood I wish people were more honest about. You can love your children deeply and still feel physically pained by the amount of sound they create when your nervous system is already worn down. Both things can be true in the same minute.