I miss quietness

It's the rare nights like this one, where the kids went to bed without much fuss, that I can sit back and relax in the peace that is our house after 8pm.

It's truly beautiful.

I can hear the cars meandering through our suburb and the sound of Craig's pro-wrestling playing softly in the background. But the foreground is empty. Void of loud noise. This is the sound of settling.

I always enjoyed the peace and comfort of our house.

But since Avalon arrived, my life is often overwhelmingly surrounded with loudness. And I know this is only the start of what will probably peak in another 15 years, when my kids become teenagers. Maybe our house will be filled with shouts and loud music coming from respective rooms. I hope not. But in a family of (hopefully) 8, there's surely going to be disagreements.

But tonight, the two children which God has given Craig and I to care for, are tucked up in their beds, our eldest with warm blankets around her and teddies, our second-born swaddled snugly in her wrap. And tonight, the house mimics the quietness we experienced for the first 6 years of our marriage.

But now, the quietness takes on a new meaning. Because I know that there's more precious people in our house now than before.

Sure, life was a lot more "whimsical" without the children around. Late night trips to exotic locations (like the 24hour Krispy Kreme) and coffee and bountiful Thai on the streets of Newtown.

But now that I know both quietnesses, I'm thankful for tonight. I'm thankful for our noisy children. I'm thankful that our house's noise isn't dictated by Craig's and my voices alone.

Avalon's little voice is rising. Her own personality is bursting forth. And I love the noises she makes. Squeals of delight as she masters jumping off a stair, which is repeated over and over to Craig and my everlasting praise. Giggles as she laughs along with our jokes "funny Mummy, funny Daddy." Even though she has no idea the genius of Will Ferrell that we're recalling. That noise is lovely, too.

Even Willow's noise is becoming more melodical, as she attempts to get our attentions as we fuss around. Her noise is also beautiful, and adds to our family's sound.

It's a cacophony, but a sweet cacophony that marks the air in our house now.

Accepting the inevitable

It's 'mediocre' virus time at the Hamiltons. You know the types. The ones that appear as a sore throat in the morning and a headache and progress to the stage where you notice it all the time, but it's not bad enough to get antibiotics for? Yeah, I know that you knew what I was talking about.

Craig fell sick, then me, then Ava, then Willow followed by the dog (ok, so i'm embellishing a little there).

I know what this means for me- lots of water (if i remember), lots of sleep (if i can get it) and some fruit high in vitamin c (breastfeeding makes taking medicine virtually impossible). I know what this means for Craig (I forget he's even sick because he doesn't like to mope, so he ends up being sick for weeks on end.)

But what does it mean for the kids? Well, Ava's now one and a half, so it just means she's even more sensitive and clingy than normal (can it be possible???) and I've just discovered what that means for a newborn. Back to feeding every 2 hours! Just when you get a little more sleep and a little more "me" time, they snatch it away from you again...

It's a good thing that God makes them too cute to ignore in times like this. =)

And can I say, that I'm missing my Mum, too. If she wasn't visiting my poor sister in Qld who never gets regular help with her toddler like I do, then I know that she'd look after the kids for me so I could get some kick-'a' day sleep.

=) At least Mum taught me that it's nice to 'take turns'. And Alexandra, this weekend is all you're getting! (just kidding, gorgeous Alex, you're amazing!)