Minivan on Mute

When I find myself alone in the minivan, I feel inexplicably lonely. The quiet consumes me, and I don't know what to do with myself or my thoughts. The silence is overpowering.

I know I should enjoy this time to myself - there is no Magic Tree House audio CD playing for the fourteenth time. There is no XM Kids Kenny Curtis Llama comedy going on, and no one is stuck in a real tall tree. No one is asking for Mommy's water cup or throwing toys on the floor or having an "emergency". No one is asking questions or telling me stories about how Mario knocked Bowser into the lava. No one is telling me not to sing because they can't hear the "real" singer. There is no Hamster Dance.

But, I guess those noises and annoyances are the sounds of my life, and as much as I throw my hands up and cry "Mommy has a headache!", most of the time I really love it, and I miss the noise, the auditory proof of my role as Mommy, when it isn't there.

Usually, when I find myself in this situation, I fill up the emptiness with:

• BBC news (world news sounds a whole lot better with a British accent, and I even find myself listening to the cricket report, though I don't understand a word), or
  
• International pop music, or iPod upbeat music, or
  
• Obsessive talking on the cell phone (using an ear piece).

Tonight, when I began to feel the loneliness, I started to panic a bit and reached for the phone, but I stopped, and just let myself drive in the quiet with my thoughts. Scary. Definitely shouldn't do that again.