I just don't know what to do with myself when my little friends are asleep, Mr. Wonderful is working, and the house is so quiet . . . except for the slight ticking of the ceiling fan (it hasn't worked quite the same since the dinosaur incident a ways back). My house is NEVER quiet during the day time. Ike alone makes noise comparable to that of five boys and Kate's calls aren't frequent, yet are still quite loud and demanding. The other day, however, I determined this isn't just noise, but childhood enthusiasm!
I LOVE childhood enthusiasm! It's one of the rarest and most precious gifts. We don't hold it for very long and those who get to truly witness and appreciate it are indeed the most blessed people in the world! Mommies get to witness this enthusiasm first hand. Although sometimes we are quick to pass it off as just noise and not as music to our ears that it really is.
The other day I quickly made my morning coffee, jumped into my favorite blue chair in the dining room (it was out of place due to a much needed carpet cleaning), and snuggled under a blanket. You see, when Wyatt arrives in the morning that's when the enthusiasm for the day reaches it's peak and it's a sheer joy to listen too . . . and watch:)
I love my position in the chair. I can see them clearly, but I am slightly out of their sight. If they saw me watching, they might not be quite as vocal and creative.
It doesn't take long before the pillows are off the couch. ALL the trains are dumped on the floor. And the train track is rapidly assembled. Their merry little voices begin to rise with glee and soon enough the older of the two decides to somersault off the couch! The little one follows. They are boulders falling down the mountain!
BONK! The little one doesn't quite make his somersault so the older comes over with a kiss on the head and the expectation of making everything right. It works! They try again, and again, and again. Little one needs more practice.
I sip my coffee and smile.
Pretty soon the pillows become tunnels, mountains, bridges, caves . . . whatever their little imaginations decide. They see me watching and look to see if I'm going to scold them for taking the pillows off the couch (I usually do).
"Wyatt do that!" the older one defends himself quickly.
"Did you do that too?" I ask.
"Yes." he can't fib.
"Oh. It looks like fun." I say.
"UH, HUH!" the volume rises and they think they'll push the limits.
The older attempts to take flight off the couch and crashes with a loud THUD. The little one tries to get up on the couch to follow, but can't get up fast enough before I call a stop to the jumping on or off of the couch. He toddles away to try something else.
They play and talk and make up stories and sing songs. Secretly, I wish they'd let me play too. It just looks like so much fun!