Before motherhood and babies, silence was a normal part of life: sometimes a welcome reprieve from a hectic lifestyle while at other times a sign of boredom to be counteracted with popcorn-fueled How I Met Your Mother marathons.
After motherhood though? Well let's just say that with a toddler in the house, silence is always suspect.
Case in point: our chaotic evening this past weekend.
The husband and I have recently launched ourselves into a fitness routine in a bid to finally shed the extra pounds we've both been carrying around for a while now. Three days into the routine though makes for two very achy-painy and exhausted parents ready to call it a night at 8pm. Pair that with a day spend cooking, cleaning, vacuuming, diapering, feeding, tidying, and everything else in between, and it's no wonder neither the husband nor I noticed the silence till it was too late.
Lilly, the ever rambunctious explorer, managed to get her hands on her half-full bottle of milk, unscrew the top and pour everything down the back of the brand new sofa.
So instead of going to bed early like we planned, we spent a lovely evening vigorously scrubbing sofa cushions, all the time dreading that we would leave some milk in there and have to live with a rancid milk smell in our living room for all eternity. After 30 minutes of frantic 'scrub, rinse and repeat' though, I was pretty sure we got most of the milk and everything was as clean as it was ever going to be.
'Maybe we should flip the sofa over, just to be sure nothing seeped through', my husband suggested.
'Sure' I agreed absentmindedly, already dreaming of my soft bed.
Yup, there was a puddle of milk underneath the sofa.
So we did the only thing we could do: we cut open the bottom lining of the sofa and spend another hour scrubbing everything we could reach inside.
So yes, overall a great evening. Silence? No thank you. Give me a noisy house over a silent toddler any day of the week.