Quiet Kids

 It got awfully quiet around 2 pm today. We had finished school work, made and eaten chili and we didn't have any plans for a few hours. By some strange chance of fates, the stars aligned, and I had not only the desire but also the ENERGY to clean the upstairs bathroom, so I had been incommunicado for at least an hour (it was a very messy bathroom. Like, WOAH). When I carried the bags (PLURAL) of bathroom trash downstairs, this is what I found:

Inside, I found my two youngest kids, reading quietly and just chilling out together. They have grand plans to sleep in the fort together tonight and have even prepared for times of famine by stocking said fort with bananas and saltines.

I don't really know if they would be this close if they weren't together all of the time. I tend to think that the logical answer is "No, they wouldn't." Not too many 7th and 3rd graders play and giggle and hang out the way that these two do, and I am really grateful for this moment in time. The advantage to SO much time together is that the time that is spent arguing is just a tiny fraction of their time together, rather than the ONLY time they have together. 

We miss having Justin home with us, but I know he needed time away from all of us. Too much togetherness isn't what suits his personality, and, though it stings, I understand.

If you hear me complain about my kids arguing, it's because they're kids. 

They're siblings. They argue. 

It happens.

But they also really, really like each other. They're siblings. They're friends. They're classmates. 

They love each other. It's awesome.