Today was a beautiful, peaceful day. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and the house was quiet. The kids have been in school for three weeks now, and every day still feels like Christmas morning.

Remember that commercial from Staples that they ran at the end of every summer? As the song “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” plays on the sound system at Staples, a man (obviously a dad) dances down the aisle, pushing a cart full of school supplies. His kids watch, slack-jawed and dejected.  I like that commercial. I wish it was still on TV. It makes me sing.

Anyway, today was glorious. I felt peaceful, calm, and grateful. Around midday I decided I’d probably post about being thankful, and how much gratitude I had for the gift that was today.

Then 2:30 p.m. came, and along with it the day-after-Christmas letdown: I picked up the kids.

Now I do love the kidlets. Really I do. I miss them when they’re not around. But right now the contrast between the silence when they’re gone and the cacophony when they’re home is really jarring.

While the kids are at school, I can forget for awhile these familial realities:

The Red Clay Children don’t walk; they run. They don’t talk; they yell. They don’t laugh; they scream. And they don’t sit calmly on the couch. Instead, they use the back of it like a balance beam.

No part of the house is off-limits. Nothing is done silently. There is no escape. And all the peace and quiet is sucked out of every room.

I have to choose: will I let the chaos suck out my inner peace?

I’ve heard someone describe a mom’s job as that of a thermostat. Not a thermometer, which just displays the temperature of a room. Because a thermostat connects to the power source, it can actually regulate the room’s temperature.

I like that analogy. As Mom, I can tell that the family’s mood is often set by mine. That means my mood had better be influenced by something outside of the family. Otherwise, we all get in an infinite loop of crazy.

This reminds me that I need a source of peace. Not just when the kids are making me crazy. But especially when they are. As a Christian, I believe that I am only capable of being a thermostat when I cling to God as my source. On my own, I am ultimately a thermometer.