My house is quiet - other than the crick crick of the fire beside me and the soft breathing of the five year old on my couch - I hear nothing! The TV is off, the exchange student out, the children sleeping. Its so rare its weird and I'm not sure what the best way is to enjoy it. Do I sit, let my thoughts wander, savour the moment, read the newly arrived Blood Cancer newsletter hiding underneath the books and papers on the coffee table or get up from my warm spot, dry the dishes, clear away the days rubble and put on another load of washing? All day my tasks have chosen me. Its been a wild, demanding ride and I've tried to stay calm and hang on to my sanity. Be gratful even. I've been at everyone's beck and call. The phone's rung, I've answered it; friends visited, I've sat and chattered over coffee; daughter No.1's invited me over, I've sat on her porch and watched her daycare and foster children hold baby chickens. I've driven the boy to his first day volunteering at the SPCA and shared his anger and disapointment when the head lady said he was too young; taken daughter no.3 to her horse and picked her up when she'd finished riding. I've organised the exchange student's trip out of town tomorrow, shopped for groceries; filled out forms, supervised and sent schoolwork off to the Correspondence School, answered txts, cooked meals, feed the baby, picked up daycare kids from school, taken them to the park, listened, talked, encouraged, disciplined, been my 20 yr olds brain and boosted my 10 year olds's ego, reinforced boundaries, changed nappies, cleaned, gooed at the baby - and filled the gaps with prayer. Its now 11 o'clock at night and its finally stopped. I'm sitting at the computer - lost. I have no idea what to do and no-one around to decide for me. Bed looks good but I'm waiting for the last of my daycare kids to be picked up. Her grandmother is late, very late and if she doesn't arrive soon my foster baby will be waking for her next feed before I even get to bed. I wonder what Louise Hay would say if she turned up on my doorstep. Her insight would be welcome right now. I know I've chosen this life, quite consciously most of the time. What I can't figure out is why! Surely a nice quiet bach nestled amounst bush, in a secluded bay somewhere would reflect my nature more. I found the perfect spot while on holiday a few weekends back. In a sleepy little seaside village, steeped in personal history, four little baches bunched together at the end of the road - bush backyard, sand and sea in front. It looked idylic. My mind often goes there when its not being occupied by the hundred and one demands of those around me but I doubt my body will ever join it. I hate shifting and I'd miss everyone too much. Unless I convince them all to come with me.... Sounds like a plan.