it’s a little after 11:30 right now and all are asleep. well, except for me. but the silence. oh, the silence.
don’t get me wrong. i love the sound of my household. (it still makes me giggle to think i have a household because i have kids. plural. me. with kids, plural. so awesome and blessed.) i love the sound of my husband stirring up something crazy in the kitchen with my daughter. i love the sound of my baby boy giggling his little heart out at the antics of his zany sister. i love the sound of my daughter literally singing about how much she loves her brother.
then there are times. and you know those times. those times where you’re carrying one wailing infant on one hip and a tantrum throwing toddler on the other. all the while, you’re wishing that you had spent more time at the gym lifting weights versus running, ahem. or when you hear that “oops!” followed by the unmistakable tinkling of shattering glass. or the pounding of tiny feet in protest at the thought of having to eat a vegetable (“i don’t think that’s a good idea! it’s bad for me!”).
so, this silence. this blessed silence where i know everyone, husband and babes, are tucked away in their respective places of slumber. and i know that i should sleep too, just as i know that morning will come all too soon with a vengeful eagerness.
but in this silence, i find my respite. and the only noise breaking this silence is the clacking of my knitting needles.
ah, yes. this silence is splendid indeed.