The silence is deafening

Right now, as I type this, both of my children are in school.

Peanut, in her third year of partial-day preschool, entered the “Fours” class. This is a milestone year since she will attend five mornings a week.

Loaf started in the “Two-and-a-half” class today. She will attend two mornings a week.

So I sit here, at my computer, watching my little cursor blink and blink and listening to nothing. The house is so still, so devoid of noise and life it seems almost like someone else’s house. I have, it seems, forgotten how to function in such a quiet place.

I know I will come to relish these mornings when I can sit and focus, be productive and have more than three minutes to think.

But not today.

Today, the silence fills my ears, pounds at my head and rattles around my brain. Today, it is impossible to focus on anything except the void. Today, my quiet house is the loneliest place on earth and I am counting the minutes until the life comes rushing back into it.