It’s 12:20am. We’re getting a gentle thunderstorm with a little lightning that’s threatening to turn into a louder downpour. It’s been awhile since we’ve had that sound, I like it!

Maggie is coughing up a storm, as well, poor kid. She wound up catching the cough bug that’s going around, and she’s exhausted. The cough syrup helps a bit, but its hard to sleep when you keep coughing like that, and I can hear her cough, then sigh, then try to get comfortable to fall asleep, over and over again. I brought her a glass of water a while ago, I’ll try again in a few minutes, but I fear that a day home from school may be coming up for her.

Next to me, as I sit up in bed typing, Jeanne is sleeping soundly… Except for when Maggie has a big cough, then I can hear her breathing change as her motherly instincts kick in and she listens to make sure the coughing doesn’t get out of control.

Down the hall, Max is talking in his sleep tonight. I’m not sure what his dream is about, but it seems pretty adventurous: the handful of things I’ve been able to make out have been variations on “C’mon, you can make it!” and “Alright, nice one!”

And on the floor of our bedroom, Nanook is breathing gently in the corner by my dresser while Sneakers is actually snoring a tiny bit on the floor by Jeanne’s side of the bed, where she insists on sleeping every night.

Now, as I wrap this up, the rain is falling harder, loud splatters on the roof and windows, but I don’t think it’ll last. It’s just providing a nice little accompaniment to go with the tiny, gentle little soundtrack of our home.

It’s amazing how comforting the sounds of our lives can be…