The Sounds Of Our Childhood

When my babies are sleeping, I sneak into their rooms and watch them as they lay in their usual positions - Nolan with his thumb in his mouth, and Maya with her arm wrapped around her bear. Every time I see Maya with her tiny arm around Teddy I feel like I am going to die from cuteness overload. I always tell Chris I want to etch that image into my brain permanently so that I can always remember just how small and precious she was. Then one night, about three weeks ago, I actually took pictures of them while they slept. I had decided that I wanted to be able to look back on these images and forever remember how precious it was having two sleeping babies under our roof.  After all, these are the kinds of moments that we will cherish the most when looking back on this time. 

Aside from the sappy mommy moment to reflect on such things, it also brought back memories of when I was just a young girl. I'll explain what I mean. As I left Maya's room that night, my foot hit the floor board right at the foot of her door in the hallway and it creaked it's usual creak when I leave her room at night. It's the same creak that Maya hears in the morning when I am about to come into her room and greet her.  She often calls my name when she wakes up and when she hears that creek she stops and waits in anticipation because she knows I am coming.  When I was a little kid I remember similar noises that were familiar in my parents' household - the creaking of the kitchen cupboards the never got oiled; the sound of popcorn popping (followed by the theme to Cheers on the TV) when my Mom would sit down and take a break after bed time; the sound of my Dad lightly coughing (announcing that he was home from his shift at work); the way the back door slammed when someone left the house. All of these noises were just every day parts of the household routine. They were monotonous, trivial, insignificant, and yet comforting in their predictability and familiarity.  They were the sounds of home. 

I wonder if Maya lays in bed at night and is comforted by our household sounds. The sounds of us living. I wonder if she will hear certain noises some day, only to be reminded of the security and safety of her childhood. I hope one day she does.