Sweetly quiet.

The boys are out with their grandparents, and I am left alone, cuddled on a firm, but soft, dark, leather couch in their home. My hands are in love; tightly holding on to their warm mug of chai tea. Swirls of steam rise and the strands of comfort wrap themselves around my arms, making their way to the tips of my toes.

The sounds of squawking birds grab my attention and I watch as they make every attempt to escape the incoming storm. They fly off. I am left alone again. I close my eyes and sink deeper into the couch, releasing myself from high-functioning expectations, and instead coaxing them to enjoy the moment.  Just let yourself be.

There aren't any obnoxious voices ricocheting off the walls. No pitter patter of teeny-tiny feet. Listen to the lovely absence of relentless chatter. Did you notice the damaging thuds from incessant, acrobatic stunts have ceased?

The silence is sweet. 

Sip. Ahhhhh…

It's just me, my cup and an ignorant ceiling fan left whirling away.