It’s the little boy laughter that echoes throughout the cavernous living room.
It’s the music from the exer-saucer as baby’s hand smacks down. Is it something from the Baroque period? I’m not sure.
It’s the swish of the washer and the tumble of the dryer.
It’s the beeping of the microwave and the ice maker dropping a few cubes.
It’s the pull of a dining chair across the tile kitchen floor.
It’s the little stirrings and cries as baby wakes.
It’s Justin Roberts and the Wicked soundtrack and songs from Glee while driving in the car.
It’s Tom & Jerry and Max & Ruby.
It’s the question for some milk or water to drink.
It’s the garage door humming on it’s way up as Daddy pulls into the driveway.
It’s the prayer before dinner “Bless us O Lord…”
It’s the water rushing into the bath tub where my babies get clean.
It’s the baby girl breathing as she relaxes into, and falls asleep in my arms.
It’s the whisper of “I love you” from my husband.
It’s the t.v. in the background while my fingers type.
It’s the silence of my bedroom as I lay down to decompress and prepare to wake and hear it all again tomorrow.
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