You know how certain songs can bring back a flood of memories and feelings? I have that any time I turn on the oldies station on the radio.
Growing up, my dad always had the radio in our kitchen turned on to the oldies station all day long. I remember one time going to Marley Station Mall with him when I was about 9 years old to meet the morning jockeys on 100.3 FM and being starstruck. I knew most of the Beatles, Beach Boys and Bruce Springsteen hits by heart before I was 10. So now whenever I hear one of those classics, I’m transported back to a carefree, simpler time in my life. It’s what home sounded like to me.
Music is a big part of our home now, but it’s usually only on at certain times of the day and probably set to a Sesame Street or Disney Pandora station. As a parent, our home sounds a little bit different.
The buzz of the timer ending on the dryer; the rhythmic whir of the washer churning and sloshing its sudsy contents — that’s what home sounds like.
The gurgle and sweet hiss of the coffee maker dripping out my morning cup of sanity; the satisfactory click of the door locking and hum of the dishwasher at the end of a long day — that’s what home sounds like.
The loud “thud” and “thump thump thump” of two sets of little feat coming out of bed in the morning and running to the door; the creak of the gate on the stairs and crash it makes when slammed shut as they excitedly rush to tell me they’re awake — that’s what home sounds like.
The soft murmur of little dramatic voices, bubbly music and my kids’ giggles coming from the couch at TV Time; the high-pitched, off-key, lilting voices of my children singing their rendition of “Rainbow Connection” when they don’t think anyone’s listening — that’s what home sounds like.
The unusually loud tick of the clock and hum of the refrigerator when the house is empty, and I’m waiting for their school to be over; the crisp crinkle of turning a page in my book late at night when the rest of the world is asleep — that’s what home sounds like.
The surprising “boing” of the toaster springs releasing the waffle as the watching little faces light up; the noisy slurps and sounds of crunching as bowls of cereal are devoured or dinosaur-shaped sandwiches are nibbled on — that’s what home sounds like.
The middle-of-the-night baby cry that jolts me awake, heart-racing, only to discover those sounds have long gone except for in my dreams; the raspy whisper of “my covers are un-tucked” or “I had a bad dream” that drag me from my slumber and out of bed at all hours — this is what home sounds like.
It is all sweet, beautiful music to my ears.
Mandy Watts is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Crownsville with her husband, Justin, who runs their family business, and their two sons, 4-year-old James and 2-year-old Luke.