I find it amazing how my definition of leisure seems to be in a semi-constant state of flux. At the beginning of our marriage it might have been watching a movie together with a hot cup of cocoa or sharing a quiet dinner together without food flying through the air. When I was pregnant leisure was a day that I felt nominally healthy and could pretend to be a normal person; it was a day that I didn't have to go see any doctors, fill a prescription, or get fluids.
Now, though, leisure is totally different. With a toddler running around the house, leisure has turned into 30 seconds to pee alone without someone banging on the door. Leisure is sneaking in a shower while the babe is distracted. Leisure is eating with both hands or going to the grocery store alone. Leisure is reading a book that is longer than 10 pages, doesn't have pictures, and doesn't rhyme.
And you know what? It's so worth it.