FHQ

The house is silent. For the moment.

No refrigerator hum. No squeaking floor. No slamming door. I am the only one up at 9:00 on a Wednesday morning. Well, okay, Hubby is up, too, but he's at work. The Teens -- and the dog -- are all still asleep. And the house is quiet. Summer-morning quiet. Full-House Quiet.

Full-House Quiet is different from Empty-House Quiet. FHQ has potential. It has the stored energy of a firework just sitting there in its little paper box, waiting for a light.

EHQ is peaceful, no doubt. And sometimes it's all a mother could wish for: a few hours alone in her own home. A month or so ago, Hubby and I were alone on a Saturday morning. (The kids had all slept over somewhere else.) He and I got up, sat in the sunny family room, read the paper, sipped our coffee and tea. The house wasn't exactly empty, but it was still EHQ. And it was nice. For a while.

It didn't take me long to realize that while I appreciate EHQ, I actually prefer FHQ. I like knowing they're up there; that soon someone's feet will hit the floor, the stairs will creak, and a lanky, sleepy-headed body will stagger into the kitchen. I like knowing that today holds the potential for many kids (not just my own) to waft through the house like summer heat.

Yes, they will eat all the food and dirty all the dishes. If they've been playing soccer or wiffle-ball, they will be hot and sweaty and will smell bad. They will track in dirt and let in flies. They may lie for hours in front of the TV playing video games. Voices will shout, doors will smack, the dog will bark. I may wish, once again, for peace and quiet.

But it will be for Full-House Quiet.