Brendon is home for two weeks (minus a two-day interview in Texas). He has been playing Mr. Mom, doing everything from dishes and laundry to playing with and feeding Henry, making sure our little man is getting lots of love and attention, not to mention getting diaper changes and going to bed on time. Brendon is a saint to say the least. I told him he should change career paths to stay at home full time, but he declined, reminding me that we wouldn't make it very far in life. Having so much time together is rare and what makes it so special, I've concluded. Between Brendon and my mom who calls every day to see if she can help in any way, we (Henry, Maggie, and I) have been in good hands.
Maggie is such a joy. Something hit me when I first saw her out of my belly: it was an instantaneous love handed to me for this child. My daughter. I cherished my time with her in the hospital. We had a lot of alone time, and, just like with Henry, I completely fell in love with her. Now that we are home, the love continues to grow. She is so angelic: the essence of a pure child. Her father and I adore her.
Henry is slowly warming up to Maggie, bless his little heart. We are trying to be sensitive to him and his needs. Each day he is making progress in getting acquainted with his sister. The other day he came up to her while she was awake on my lap and talked to her for awhile and gave her a kiss for the first time. He has repeated this several times since. Henry often hears the phrase, "Be soft." He is learning a lot about being a big brother and I have no doubt that he'll be one of the best.
Our lives are forever changed. Forever changed for the better in so many ways. We are thrilled about the newest addition to our family and, even though there are difficult days ahead (I'm wondering how I'll be able to manage two by myself coupled with sleepless nights), the good moments will outweigh the hard ones, I'm sure.
