Sleeping Like a Baby

Peace is found in many different things by many different people.  For some, peace is found in the dancing flicker of an open flame, or the consuming violence of a roaring fire.  For some it is the gentle patter of rain on a window, for others it is the impotent fury of lashing high winds as they settle in for the night.  For some it is the rustle of leaves in a forest glade, as birds tweet and trees sway in a dance which has lasted for thousands of years, for others it is found in the face of a tiger as it paces, or a lion as it rests.  However, this is turning into a bit of a John Denver song so perhaps we should move on.


For me peace is much simpler than any of that, and much closer to home.  For me peace is the sound of a sleeping child, the rustling covers (because neither of my children it seems can stay still for a single second, even when they're asleep) grinding of the teeth (which is a sound that can send B running from a room, but which I don't mind, and is an almost certain sign that they are asleep) and the sound of heavy breathing (which is, especially with S, often accompanied by some room shaking snores).

I could stand outside my children's bedrooms for hours and just listen to them make the noises that mean they are asleep, if I weren't so busy trying to take advantage of the fact that they are asleep at all by charging around with B trying to get everything done and then collapsing in bed.  One of these days I will have caught up on enough sleep that I will be able to enjoy the peace of a sleeping child.  Won't I?  One of these days right?