I pull into our driveway and savor the warm quiet moment before heading inside, through an arctic blast of air.
I look up, expecting to see Adi’s face smushed against the glass, waiting for me to come inside. However, the glass is clear of bodies, but not handprints.
Inside, it is surprisingly quiet. I drop my bags. Arnauld looks up from the stove where he is warming up dinner. “Oh hey,” he says before turning back to the meatballs.
I unpack my lunchbox, noticing the contents of the girls’ lunchboxes already waiting. My morning sticky note with reminders for after school worked. Score!
I hear the tv in the living room and not much else. The house is calm. Settled.
This only happens on Mondays. Adi, our busy button pushing middle child has dance class. Two hours of calm and settled.
“Maybe we should sign her up for dance class everyday,” Arnauld suggests.
I turn back to the dishes, breathing in the calm. We will need it for when dance class ends.