The Silence is Deafening

I knew I had arrived as a parent when I described the squeals of my daughters playing with their cousins as the "sound of happiness" while they ran the circular route that is our house, leaving a bevy of toys in their wake.

(My house has never been spotless, and now I have a reason. These two pint-sized Tasmanian devils reside there now, and can create enormous messes in the blink of an eye.)

The other day, as I dropped the girls at the YMCA daycare, they were the only kids. As they scampered to claim toys, it was quiet in the room. I said to the attendant, "the silence is deafening" - and it was - the room is usually filled with babies and children and the noises that accompany them.

I experienced this phenomenon in my own house shortly thereafter. The girls were fighting a cold, and had been napping for hours one afternoon. My husband and I took advantage of the child-free time by catching up on reading, emails and chores. But at a certain point, the house feels too quiet. Somber instead of peaceful, almost like a reminder of the void our lives would have without these two boisterous beings.

If Happy does have a sound, wouldn't it be laughter? And what better laughter than that of a child - their brains and emotions unencumbered by adult worries, insecurities and prejudices?