Quiet

Sunday is probably my very favorite day of the week. It's relaxing, there's nowhere to be, and you kind of get to put life on hold for just that one day. This last Sunday, however, there were lots of breakdowns, lots of crying, and lots of Taylor and I looking over at each in exasperation laughing and counting down the hours to bedtime. Because some days are just like that.

After both kids were down, Theo for the night and Isla for the next few hours until she would need to eat again, Taylor and I went downstairs and collapsed on the couch. I laid my head on his chest and with the exception of exchanging a few contented sighs, neither of us said a word for the next few minutes. When Taylor did speak again he asked if I wanted to watch something. I told him no. It was quiet and all I wanted to do was enjoy the calmness that enveloped our home in that moment. There is something so peaceful and special to me about having your kids tucked in their warm beds for the night, in their safe places away from the noise of the world, loved and taken care.

And so we laid on the couch together, our legs intertwined, hands holding, and we talked. It felt like we were dating all over again, but better. Because being married will always be better than dating. Always. 

We talked about how our cozy, little rental where we have lived and made 'ours' for the last few years seems to be growing ever-smaller especially since our newest addition has arrived. Together, we dreamed of the day we would own our very own home. We talked about how that home will fit our family and will have a yard for Theo to play in and how one day Isla will join him and how magical it's going to be to watch the two of them grow up and play together. We watched and re-watched a video I had taken of them earlier that day screaming at the top of their lungs and laughed harder and harder each time we watched it. We scrolled through pictures of them and re-lived the moments from each one. 

We (I) talked about my eyelashes and how they are far too short since putting fake ones on over a month ago and now every time the fake ones fall out they bring several of my own eyelashes with them and now my eyes look weird and lash-less. And should I put on more fake ones? Because then I look prettier. Or should I give my real lashes a chance to redeem themselves? *Sigh* These types of things are so hard. Taylor didn't seem to take much interest in the subject though so I kissed him for a little while to make up for it. 

Then we ran out of things to talk about so we turned on Parenthood while Taylor rubbed my feet and then we ate some Dyno Bites, which is the generic brand of Fruity Pebbles, but in a national taste test people liked Dyno Bites better, so I guess you don't always get what you pay for.