We are in the middle of our 245th fight with allergies this year.
They were doing fine yesterday. Today they're stuffed up and staring vacantly ahead.
On the way home from school I asked them, "Are you feeling okay?" They just stared ahead, unblinking. "Yes, Mama", the answered in unison. Still staring. I had an eerie recollection of the twins from The Shinning. 'We want you to play with us'.
I have them resting on the couch now.
Well, one is resting. The other is snoring. Loudly.
It's quiet. (Except for the snoring, obviously).
That is not a usual sound in our house.
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself when I don't have to say the common phrases every five minutes:
"No pushing on that."
"No jumping from there."
"No throwing. Anything. Ever."
"Did you bite her? Don't bite her."
"Who didn't flush the toilet? If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down."
In the midst of this unusual din of silence, I find myself wondering what I ever did before they were here.
How did I occupy my time? I can't seem to recall, but I must have done something. I was always so busy. So tired. Exasperated about some definite lack of time. Rushing. Hurrying here and there. Forever 5 minutes behind.
How is that possible?
I didn't know what "Busy" or "Lack Of Time" meant back then.
And the truly marvelous thing is; even though I have no time to myself (save these rare moments of allergy-induced silence), I cannot imagine my life any other way.
I don't want to.
These two fill my life with the best sort of busy-ness there could ever be.
The soft hum of a family filling these walls.
A daily blessing, indeed.