In the quiet.
Our days are quiet and (mostly) peaceful. We read, we play, we do laundry and dishes. Often, it feels as if we’re always together. I’ll chop veggies while she drags pots and pans out of the cupboard. I’ll fold laundry and then she’ll unfold it all. I build a tower; she knocks it down.
But Ainsley also does really well playing alone. In fact, she will often wander off by herself with some task in mind — standing the flashlights up on the windowsill, relocating all her puzzle pieces, or unloading a basket of laundry. Work, work, work.
Then things get quiet. Feet stop running. Puzzle pieces stop scuffing across the floor. Laundry baskets stop bumping into walls. I set down the dish I’m washing, dry my hands, and come around a corner to find Ainsley sitting quietly with a book.
And I’m enamored.