Silence. It Really is Golden.

There's no doubt about it, a baby is exhausting. A baby and a three-and-a-half year old? Even more so. I love doing things with my whole family or just a game of Ponies or colouring with Leah, and its such a good time. Making silly memories. Loving on each other. And at the end of the day, rubbing your eyes, sighing with defeat relief.

Where most people look forward to weekends, I look forward to Monday-Friday (recently anyways). While Matt is on day-shift I get to wake up with Leah and James and get her off to the bus stop for school. (Our mornings go so much better than our nights around here.) After that, I come home and relax, or clean, or cook, or write, or relax, or read, or nap, or relax. And its quiet. So quiet. Besides when James is whaling to be fed. But for the most part, quiet. I even leave the TV/music off for the majority of the day. And just listen to the beautiful sound of nothing. It's golden. And I appreciate and need this time so bad. To collect my sanity, breathe, soak up all my squishy newborn-ness that soon won't be so newborn but baby.

I started to think about all of this earlier this morning and felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe because I get to enjoy all this and its without Leah and Matt. And Matt doesn't get to enjoy this. Not like I do anyway. Everyday though, we squeeze in Mommy-Leah time, Daddy-Leah time, and Mommy-Daddy time, so we're really not doing all that bad.
 

When Sunday rolls around, I may be bone-tired to the point of speaking improperly and not making any sense (I recently said "I'm putting James in the closet." rather than "I'm putting James in his car seat.") but the weeks are flying by and we're getting into the groove of this family of four thing. And I'm kind of loving it.