My husband did not want to be a father.

I thought about this a few nights ago as I did the dishes. Beyond the clink and clang of glass and pots, I could hear Maria and her father wrestling and chasing each other through the house. Their laughter came from deep in their guts.

"Daddy, again!'' she would shout.

And again, Daddy chased. He always does.

My husband works from home in an office on the opposite side of the house from my home office. Maria goes to school full-time. So, most days, it is supremely quiet at my house.

When I first quit my reporting job, the stillness at home -- even with a then-toddler in it -- was a bit disturbing for me, an extrovert used to an extremely loud working environment. Eventually though, I came to love the silence and the freedom of working by myself, at my own pace.

So, imagine the rocking my world took this week: My daughter had a week off from school, my husband was on furlough, and my father is visiting from Miami.

Maria regularly confesses her trespasses.

So far, it's pretty innocent:

"Mama, I used the Q-Tip by myself even though you told me not to.''

"Mama, I really got two pieces of gum instead of one.''

"Mama, I ate a chocolate Kiss before dinner when you weren't looking.''

A couple of nights ago we were snuggled in her room before bed when she quietly told me: "Mama, I am breaking the rules.”

My kid is such a tough little colt, all buck and fire, that when she sobs fat tears over a cartoon movie, I am shocked.

This weekend, we tuned into a movie about an orphan who invents a time machine. It was rated G, so I figured it would be OK.

If I counted up the hours spent watching my sleeping newborn daughter, it could total weeks. I delighted in the milk-drunk smiles, the perfect cupid's bow of her mouth as it silently twitched, the strange horse whiney sounds she made.

Whether in the dim light of our bedroom or on the couch after an early morning feeding, I knew I was one of countless mothers doing the very same thing at that very moment, doing nothing more than quietly reveling in the gift entrusted to us.