There are the ones we know…and maybe even dread. The crackle and then the cry of the baby monitor in the middle of the night, night after night. The sniffle, then the congested voice on the way home from school—the sure sign of a household about to be filled with sick people. The screams of the siblings fighting, escalating inevitably until someone gets hurt or mad.
These are the sounds of parenting, the ones that drain us, the ones that exhaust us. We listen for them because we know what they mean, because that’s our job.
But how often, because we are so busy, because we so easily get jaded, do we miss the quieter, more beautiful sounds? Sometimes it takes a poet to point them out, but they are worth noting because unlike those other sounds, these can fill us up.
Bon Iver sings about “the Christmas morning creaks” on the stairs. Morgan Wade sings about “little feet on the hardwood floor.” William Stafford, an actual poet, talks about hearing the voices of his adult children talking in the living room after he and his wife had gone to bed—the “eulogy we get to hear,” he calls it (as we mention in the December 29 entry of The Daily Dad book). What about the sounds of a kid giggling as they do a terrible job hiding in hide-and-seek? What about the sound of them dumping their backpacks in the hallway as they come home from school? What about when you hear them proudly telling a friend something you had just told them yourself? Or catch them singing along in the backseat of the car without a hint of self-consciousness?
These are the sounds we’ll long for once they’re grown up…when they’re out of the house, when they prefer the company of their friends or partners to ours. These are the wonderful sounds of parenthood, the ones that are so precious and fleeting and beautiful—and they’re happening now. Absorb them, store them in your memory, and just listen.
P.S. We created our Tempus Fugit medallion to serve as a daily reminder that time with your children flies. Keep it in your pocket as an anchor when you’re tempted to rush through dinner or skip bedtime stories and let it remind you to cherish these fleeting moments for the treasures they are. Your future self will thank you.
Get your Tempus Fugit medallion over at the Daily Dad Store today!
