the house is quiet and…

It’s Sunday morning. John’s down the road at the coffee shop finishing up a writing assignment. I’m mentally reviewing my outline for the Birth Network Forum while trying to get the kitchen cleaned up and figure out some sort of a meal plan for the week. I shuffle the kids out of the kitchen so I can work and complete my thoughts in peace.

I’m up to my elbows in dishwater, happily lost in my thoughts, when suddenly a small wave of panic washes over me. It’s quiet. Too quiet. How long has it been since I’ve seen or heard the kids?

I know they are fine but I decide to stop what I am doing and investigate.

I breeze by Lily, who is in the living room, barely noticing what she is doing, just that she is there and fine.

It’s Quinn I worry about when it is quiet.

Quinn who likes to investigate everything – medicine cabinets, drawers, closets, light sockets. Quinn who has slipped out the front door undetected (more than once) and who we have lost in public (also more than once).

I run up the stairs, hoping for best, trying not to think of the worst and slowly peek around the corner into the kids’ room.

This is the scene I find.

“Hi Mama,” he says peeking out from behind his book as he launches into a long story about the amazing powers of Spider-Man, thanking me (once again) for the new book I picked up for him this week at the thrift store.

I turn and run downstairs to grab my camera. (The above photo is a dramatic re-enactment, something we Goodmans are quite fond of doing.)  I pause to take a photo of Lily engrossed in her play.

I let out a long, slow exhale. The house is quiet and…all is well.

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