I came home from work the other day to an empty house. My wife was at work and the kids were with friends until later in the evening. I walked in to a house devoid of the commotion, chaos, and calling out for something to drink, or eat, or to help tie a shoe that typically echoes through the living room. There was peace and there was quiet, which was nice, but something was missing.
As a dad of two girls, my house and my immediate vicinity usually sound like the front row at Maple Grove Raceway if they were racing Airbuses on vuvuzela night. There is a constant din to parenting that is almost impossible to escape. It is the roar of the banging, clanging, crying, whining, thumping, bumping, belching, and crashing our kids can create that wasn’t there when I walked in to the house.
Almost 11 years ago, there was peace and quiet in my life. My wife and I were the only ones in the house and I never once saw her use the bed as a trampoline to jump from or bang on the kitchen pans with a wooden spoon. But then we had kids and the volume got turned up (I had no idea anyone could make as much noise getting out of bed as my kids do). My kids have yet to master the concept of subtlety so instead they opt for blazing an audible trail that can be heard from three counties away and level mighty oak trees. They jump, leap, and stomp around the house as if they were testing the dead weight strength of my floor joists. I have heard sobs that rattled our double pane windows. I know when they come down the steps because they fling themselves off the last 3 steps every time.
But along with the decibels of demolition my kids are apt to raising, they also are prone to letting loose with fits of giggles, full laughter, and concert lengths worth of songs. I love listening to them talking with one another in hushed voices or hearing where their imaginations will take them. They are outlets of sound that will make your heart sing or get you out of bed in the middle of the night when their fear prompts them to call for you.
As much as we may pine for peace and quiet as parents, the truth is, our lives will never be quiet again. Apart of being a Dad, besides the slew of responsibilities that come with the title, is the constant buzz resonating in my life from my kids. What was missing when I walked in to the house the other day was the fighting, whining, crying, pleading about not taking a bath and the harmony of their giggles, their laughter, their singing, and the innocence of their voices telling me, ‘I love you Daddy’. When I walked in to the house the other day I had peace and quiet but I’m a Dad and it only made me miss the noise.
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY
