Silence

I'm not going to lie to you ... I hide out in the bathroom. It's true; I did it today. Don't get me wrong - I Love (with a capital "L"!) my little guys but sometimes you just need a little peace and quiet from the relentlessly annoying sounds of The Wiggles, the cars being tossed across the room and all the toys that light up and scream music everytime a little finger presses a button. It can get very LOUD (also with a capital "L") around here and if, for the sake of my sanity, I have to perch on the edge of the bathtub for 5 or 10 minutes, so be it.

This is not something I do very often though, for two reasons. First, one never knows what trouble a couple of two year olds can get into when they're unsupervised (or even when the ARE supervised, for that matter). Secondly, and of much greater concern, the whole experience tends to end badly which kind of takes the peace out of the proposed bathroom solitude. Usually it ends with two heartbroken little souls wailing at the top of their lungs (thereby nullifying the "escaping the noise" reason for being in there in the first place) and pounding on the door until they eventually just fall in a pathetic heap on the floor in front of the door. I admit that I have become quite familiar with this entire routine during even those very legitimate bathroom excursions so I have found myself trying to limit even those... unless of course it's nap time, then it's good to go.

There's something about knowing your precious child is weeping on the other side of a closed door that instills even greater sympathy than having those same tears in front of your face. It's heartbreaking - and makes me feel like the worst kind of mother for sequestering myself in there in the first place. So, of course, unable to bear it anymore, I gently nudge the door open against their sprawled bodies which causes them to slowly slide across the kitchen floor (as they would still be refusing to get up at this point, in protest). The following hugs, kisses and reassurances tend to make it up to them and they scamper off with nary a bruised heart between them, while I still have that lingering guilt hovering around the edges.

Ah, it's a tricky thing - this solitude and silence that we sometimes seek - while our children are still toddlers (barely even into toddlerhood at that!) People tell me all the time that it too quickly passes and then you're wishing for those very loud, busy days back instead of the quiet empty house you have then. It's hard to foresee such a quiet time - with little ones, even the nights are sometimes loud so there is no guarantee of quiet even in sleep. Would I trade it? Never! Do I wish for a sound-proofed room in which to pass an hour each day? Absolutely! Will I forget the guilt from today and find myself again perched on the edge of the porcelain tomorrow? Likely.