After three years in Williamsburg, I packed up all of my
belongings (among which are a dozen boxes of books), bid farewell to a good
place and some wonderful people, and moved to Richmond. It’s only an hour away
from where I was, but it was enough to provide me with a much needed change. I
am now safely stowed in the spare bedroom of a good friend and her family, who
have taken me in with a generous and welcoming spirit.
Besides the new scenery, I think I also needed some noise.
In my current living situation, that comes primarily in the form of my friend’s
two toddlers. I am a rather quiet person; there are few subjects I will talk
about at length and I generally don’t volunteer information about myself
(though I will respond to questions), so during my last few years of living
alone I’ve had a multitude of quiet days. But with a three-year-old and an 18-month-old
in the house comes exuberance and spunk and a little bit of mayhem.
The girls are great. They exclaim whenever I appear in the
morning (“Nannie!”), come visit my room if I haven’t been downstairs in a
while, and make a point to tell me goodnight at bedtime. They love to jump on (and
off) the couch (and the beds . . . and just about anything else). They are very
fond of having their hair done (“Ponytail!”) . . . and done again a few minutes
later after they’ve pulled the clips and elastics out. Their eyes sparkle with
the newness of life and they laugh with all the abandon of youthful joy and
contentedness. The three-year-old loves to read stories and color. The
18-month-old gets a kick out of me sticking my rolled tongue out at her. Both
of them would willingly bounce and spin and build Lego towers all the live-long
day. This morning I smiled as one of them cheerfully retrieved a toy octopus
from the hallway by my door (“Oc-pus!”).
It is remarkably refreshing for someone who has been living
alone, whose niblings are far away, and who spent the last 15 years primarily
in the company of adults.
Sometimes you need a little noise. And life is just better
when you’re greeted each day by an excited toddler.
