board books · OBSERVATIONS · slice of life

The Good Kind of Toddler Silence

20121008-155115.jpg A few times a day, for the past few days, I’ve heard silence. While I like a quiet, calm, peaceful house, I don’t like a silent house. Silent usually means someone (Isabelle) is usually involved in something they shouldn’t be doing. For instance, yesterday I found her up in her closet happily ripping the one piece of tissue paper into many tiny pieces. (It was left inside a shoebox and somehow she found it!)

When I didn’t hear anything from Isabelle for about two minutes after washing the breakfast dishes this morning, I went looking for her, expecting the worst. Had she figured out how to disengage the child lock on the bathroom door so she could unroll the toilet paper? Was she trying to climb up or into something? Did she wiggle her way behind the wall unit to play with the lamp cord? My mind raced as I tried to find her. She wasn’t in her usual spots. Knowing that she couldn’t climb the stairs, I looked around the first floor of our house a second time. She wasn’t on the other side of the kitchen island. I circled my way into the dining room from the kitchen. Not there. I peeked into her play room and didn’t see her. But, I heard something. It was the sound of cardboard scratching on fabric. I looked down and almost directly under my line of vision was Isabelle. She had sidled her way into the corner of the room and was flipping through her board books. There were several board books on the floor in a semi-circle around her body. She was reading a Bizzy Bear book, playing with the cardboard pieces that move. Ahhh. This kind of “silence” was golden. Whew!


14 thoughts on “The Good Kind of Toddler Silence

  1. Love those golden silences, Stacey. The little ones can get into trouble very fast, can’t they? I remember Nathan manage to unroll an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet by the time I found him. Oops!
    And I love the photo, too. You’ve gotten Isabelle off to such a great ‘reading’ start.

  2. Such a great transition from your “increasing angst” to your arrival at a “moment of peace.” I was getting worried for a moment as you built suspense, Thus, the smile at the end was even bigger!

  3. Adorable picture…I love the way Isabelle’s head is bent just so, and that she has her little finger pointing at the words: she is a reader indeed! I have not known a silent house in some 23 years, but something tells me I would miss the various and sundry noises my kids make when the house IS silent next year, when Olivia takes off for college – the last of the Smith kids. I believe I have grown rather fond of kiddie noise!

  4. I was with you in your search. Did you sit down next to Isabelle and let her read to you or enjoy her independence? Either way you are so blessed, and we are blessed to share this journey with you.

  5. You crafted a suspenseful slice of life that took the reader through highs and lows of emotion. What a fun discovery! She is too cute!

  6. It’s funny that as a parent our first instinct is to think of mischief when it gets too quiet. The reading silence you found was golden.

  7. I love reading about your daughter..she sounds (and looks) just adorable! Aren’t you glad you didn’t call for her…you would have missed this precious moment! Thanks for sharing.

  8. Love it! It reminded me of the time I “lost” my daughter in the house. She was about the same age. She had taked all the books out of the cupboard and then crawled in with her favorites and was there on the shelf going through book after book. ( She is now 29 and teaching reading.)

  9. Stacey,
    I am giddy with excitement for seeing this reader grow! How fun that you happened upon her reading her books! I love it! I know you must be so excited to see your blooming reader!

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