I don’t remember the exact day it happened. But it hit me like a ton of bricks, well beeps actually.

It was shortly after I gave birth to my second child. We were already home from the hospital, and I had a few family members visiting. We were once again right in the crux of that hazy, blissful and tiring fog of raising a newborn. However, this time around I knew a little more about what to expect–not only about how to care for a newborn, but how to get a better handle on the logistics of everyday life: doing laundry, washing dishes, feeding anyone (husband, preschooler, baby, visitor . . .) with in a five-foot radius and responding to the well-wishers who wanted to stop by. I was a little less anxious this time around, and because I felt “decent” at the moment, I decided to be as productive as possible and do all of the aforementioned items . . . all at the same time.

Bring on the beeps.

I’m not going to lie. For a brief moment in time, I felt like Wonder Woman. “I CAN do this,” I thought. And then it happened. In just a matter of minutes, every appliance and device in my house was demanding that I pay attention to it through a series of beeps. Ok, maybe they weren’t all beeps. Some were buzzers, dings, rings and chimes. But does it really matter?

First, it was the washing machine and the clothes dryer. Then, it was the microwave, the oven, the dishwasher, the doorbell and 15 text messages/voicemail/missed-call alerts. I didn’t know which “beep” to attend to first. If it only happened that one day and stopped, I wouldn’t be writing this blog. What I’ve just mentioned was the day it all started. And it hasn’t stopped since. By the third day, my Wonder Woman cape had a little tear, and by the third week, I’m pretty sure I tore the cape off myself.

“Everything is beeping at me!” I remember blurting that out to my mother-in-law who gave me a comforting little laugh. It was that laugh that changed my frame of mind. Her laugh actually changed the sound of the beeps. Suddenly, I realized that these are positive beeps. (Not the kind of beep you hear when someone lays on their car horn as they pass you in the express lane.) I could take each of these wonderful little sounds and turn it into one masterfully awesome dance track. After all, didn’t someone once say that life is a dance?

Blessed are those to whom the beeps beckon.

These beeps are a blessing. Yes, the beeps may sound annoying, but they are reminding you that you are blessed and full of life. And you are right in the amazing whirlwind of it all. These beeps mean that I have people to care for and provide for, feed and clothe. I have a family of my own and friends and family surrounding me. People are checking in on me and the baby because they care. I’m lucky enough to be at home caring for my new baby and family, feeling healthy and energized enough to do so. I often find myself praying for those who aren’t as fortunate in these areas.

**Life is (beeping) short.**

So, what happens when you get older? Your children eventually move out so you aren’t cooking and doing as many dishes or doing laundry as often. Perhaps the visitors aren’t as frequent . . . What are you left with? Fewer beeps. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. As long as your heart is still beating, you are still being blessed by the beeps. Think about it! Life begins with a tiny heart beat (first heard as joyous, little beeps on the hospital monitor), and life ends when the monitor flat lines into one long, monotonous sound. No more continuous beeps.

But not today. Beeps can be annoying, but silence can be deafening. So yes, I think life is a dance and these beeps are just the dance track. To that I say-please turn up the volume . . . they are playing my song.