Let It Begin

There are no doubts in my mind that within a month or so, I will wonder what my old life was like. "Old life," meaning, a life without a child. I hear parents say this all the time. My brother, with four children of his own, laughs in my face when I say two words: I'm busy.

He argues, "Oh, Leese, you don't know what busy is until you have kids."

Mhph.

Well, perhaps it's just another level of busy-ness that I have yet to understand. I do know, however, from sage advice passed down from old and new parents alike, that I should embrace these last few weeks of quiet, down time, doing as I please, and sleep.

I'm trying, but, it's hard to appreciate what I've always had for about 30 years.

The weekends, though, are signs of what is to come.

Comparatively, my weekends have grown to be more domestic, more tasky, less flashy than my weekends of my twenties. A Saturday night in was usually a sign of a wild Friday night. Now, though, a Saturday night in is in order because my poor feet are swollen from walking around Giant Eagle from simple grocery shopping or following Nick around Home Depot while he picks up another space heater.

Not exactly a thrilling weekend, but somehow, it fits where we are right now.

I am beginning to believe that it's the simple pleasures of life that deliver the most refreshing joy. Particularly when you're pregnant, have a nasty cold, and can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.
Being at home, honestly, has forced me to actually DO things around the house I've been avoiding. Over this weekend, I FINALLY bought drapes that I actually like for our windows. Nick FINALLY installed our printer correctly which we've had for over a year. I FINALLY tried to make chocolate chip cookies for the first time in my life. And it's these little things, working together on our home and yelling at the TV when stupid Texas beat Nebraska that makes these new kinds of weekends comforting, relaxing, and enjoyable.

So, let it begin - the quiet, the domesticity, the diapers, the "busy-ness" that my brother alludes to. Let it begin.