The Deafening Sound of Silence

I remember a night when I was about 25-years-old. I went to NYC with a friend to go dancing. We checked into a hotel and around 4 a.m. we tried to go to bed. All I could hear was the street noise below and the sound of a flag banging on a flag pole, bang, bang, bang, bang.

My friend, born and raised in the city, slept peacefully in her bed. I slept on the floor, head in the bathroom, the fan on, cotton balls in my ears.

Years later I found myself in the kitchen with my two small boys running around me screeching and playing. My mother had slept over the previous night and stood there pouring her first cup of coffee. She was in a bit of a daze.

"It's different, huh? Than it was with us?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "I have to admit it was different." She had raised two girls.

She wondered whether buying them dolls and doll carriages would help. Would they play quietly? No, they would not. The would use their dolls as ninjas and the carriages would crash into the walls.

While the noise at 7 a.m. is admittedly intense, it is normal to me. I wash dishes while they sword-fight and run screaming from one end of the kitchen to the other crashing into the refrigerator.

Even though the noise is my new norm, I felt giddy when my husband decided to take both boys out hiking this morning. A whole hour alone in a quiet house on a Sunday morning. I could do so much. I would take a shower, knit, post some pictures on Facebook.

The first thing I did was take a shower, with the door closed, alone.

A few minutes into the shower, though, I found that instead of relaxing I was anticipating. When would my 4-year-old barge in to pee? When would my 18-month-old start banging on the door yelling "mama, mama!"? When would something crash to the floor?

I finished my shower and listened to the silence. It was deafening. For a brief moment I wondered if this is what it feels like when your kids move out? It was a sad thought.

As soon as I left the bathroom and sat down in the living room I saw the car pull into the driveway. They had been gone less than 20 minutes (you learn to shower quickly when you have two children under five).

The door opened and my husband walked in, our 18-month-old yelling in his arms.

"Not happening," he said. "He won't get into the backpack. He just flailed and screamed. But Paddy still wants to go."

With that he turned and walked back out the door leaving me with a wailing child. "Dada, dada!" he screamed and cried. I brought him into the living room to soothe him.

I took a deep breath and realized that now things felt right.

Unsolicited Advice to My Childless Self: Be Selfish

Before I had children I took so many things for granted. I read whenever I wanted, curled up on the couch for hours after a bad day at work, didn't think twice about running to the store to buy just one thing.

Friends and family members with kids would offer me one piece of advice: "Enjoy it," they'd say. "Once you have a family, everything changes." I've never really appreciated unsolicited advice (although I am guilty of giving it). I probably should have listened a little more.

Now I am sitting here, listening to Teletubbies and my two young boys yelling at each other. Every so often I notice the pile of popcorn on the floor growing as my 18-month-old methodically empties his bowl, one handful at a time.

And I wonder, what unsolicited advice would I give my childless self?

• Sleep: Forget the idea that you "sleep enough when you are dead." Sleep now. Sleep whenever and wherever you can. I haven't had a full night of sleep since 2010. It is now 2015.

• Call in sick: Don't be a martyr. If you are sick, stay home. Curl up in bed, drink hot tea and sleep. Once you have children (and I speak as a stay-at-home mom) there is nobody to call in sick to. If you are sick, your children and spouse are probably sick too and you will live in the land of "suck it up."

• Don't be so hard on yourself: Don't focus so much on your weight or compare yourself to others. Enjoy every piece of chocolate that touches your lips. Once you have kids your hips will spread and your belly will be mushy. But, none of that will matter so don't let it matter so much now. 

• Enjoy the quiet: Every day sit in a room, by yourself and just be quiet. Once you have kids you will live with a perpetual wall of sound. Not complaining, just saying.

• Close the bathroom door: Every time you walk into the bathroom, close the door. Even if you are just going in to wash your hands or grab the towels to wash. Close the door and memorize what it looks like. Once you have kids you will never see the back of the door again. 

Trying to close the bathroom door.

• Don't complain about having to clean: It is hard to understand now, but you will miss being able to clean. You will miss the smell and look of a freshly mopped floor. You will miss walking through your house without tripping on toys or stepping on a freshly chewed and spit out apple peel.

So, childless self, I have one piece of unsolicited advice for you: Be selfish.