Well, that 48 hours between Friday and Monday went by in a quick little blink, didn't it? This is what ours looked like:
Friday started with my standing coffee/milk in bed date with this happy girl:
Hugh got home at lunch time. Penelope was asleep. After he greeted me and the boys, who coming running to the front of the house as soon as they hear his key in the door, he went to "change clothes." Ten seconds later, I heard his voice on the monitor, chatting away with the baby. Apparently Hugh hasn't heard the saying "never wake a sleeping baby." Really though, I get it. I spend about half of each of her naps convincing myself I need to leave her in her crib and let her sleep.
Waking up.
Family walks. Also, picture my heart almost exploding from the cuteness:
Just imagine another photo of carbonara right here. Because that's what I ate for dinner on Friday. I keep waiting to be sick of it. No dice so far, much to Hugh's dismay. Because he was sick of it approximately two years ago.
Saturday was studying for Hugh, general lazing around reading cookbooks and playing with Pen for me, and eating some requisite summer cheeseburgers:
Sunday was breakfast with our favorite baby:
Followed my general admiring of said baby*:
Followed by a little baking:
Awesome banana bread. Less awesome photo.
Then we took an afternoon road trip that mostly involved us driving and talking, since all of the shops and restaurants we were going to see were closed. Fortunately, we do our best talking in the car, so it was a lovely afternoon with Penelope chiming in from the backseat with her thoughts. Happy and chatty in the car? I think she'll fit in just fine in this little family.
After we put Penelope down for the night and ate dinner, the Sunday blues hit me full force. It's back to Savannah tomorrow. And, while I am very grateful to have a job to go back to, especially one that gives me the flexibility that mine does, my heart is in my throat thinking about being away from my girlie. But, as Hugh keeps reminding me, we are all going to be just fine.
Fingers crossed.
*I know you think I am so over the top with the baby love. Honestly, I work hard to tone it down for the blog, and, really, in general to people who are not Hugh or my mom. If you want to know what our weekends really look like, imagine Hugh and I staring at the baby for all of her waking hours, and then spending her sleeping hours discussing how she is the cutest/smartest/snuggliest/funniest/sweetest baby there ever was and how in the world did we get so lucky. That would be more accurate. Ridiculous. But accurate.
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ReplyDeleteI think all parents can understand the obsession someone has with their own child(ren). Really, who couldn't be obsessed with the adorable baby of yours? :)
ReplyDeleteI understand because I am obsessed with my little angel, too. Plus, with that hair, how can you not be obsessed with adorable Penelope?
ReplyDeleteIf I lived with Penelope, I would talk about her all the time too. Mostly about her hair. :)
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