It is late. Almost another day, late.
Tween Boy tired himself and Spotted Dog out today by multiple trips outside in the snow. Playing snowball catch (Spotted Dog did the catching), making forts, playing Mountain Rescue again (this time with Spotted Dog playing the part of a St. Bernard...the missing truck remains missing), then coming in for steaming mugs of hot chocolate and warm Cardamom-Orange Oatmeal cookies. He managed to get the last of his homework done, and a lot of flute practice in.
Teen Boy slept, ate, and listened to music. He had a full day too.
It is times like this, when the lights are low, and the house is filled with the sounds of my sleeping family that I sometimes appreciate most. One could say I suppose that it is because it is finally quiet, however, I like to think of it as how lucky I am to have noise. I am not alone, I have a snug, warm house to call home filled with two boys and a husband who love me and whom I fiercely love.
I also have food in my tummy (a really great homemade split pea soup with homemade rosemary bread and homemade apple pie), and my family can sleep safely thanks to our military men and women, and our local police force.
I may not have a magazine cover home (as I look around, there are stacks of clean undies that someone forgot to put in their dresser before bed, backpacks standing sentinel at the top of the stairs, and some stray glasses that were forgotten somewhere along the way today...contents not always finished), but my home is full of love.
When I got married, I thought I could never love another person any more than I did my husband. Then, Teen Boy came and my heart grew. A few years later, I was thrilled to discover that we were expecting Tween Boy...but also filled with trepidation. How could I love another child as much as I loved Teen Boy? Would I be depriving this new child? Would Teen Boy feel neglected? Then Tween Boy arrived, and my heart grew again.
It is in the quiet of late evening where I learn to appreciate my family even more, and look forward to what tomorrow may bring.