I have a full size bed. Which is slightly (and I do mean slightly) larger than a twin bed.

For the past couple of years, there have been many mornings when all three of us girls have woken up in my bed together – Joy and I on either edge, and Clara in the middle so she doesn’t fall off.

We’ve all been sick lately – tired, snotty, feverish, coughing. Last night – I should say more accurately, this morning – Clara started crying at 3 am and toddled into my our room. She crawled into bed between Kelley and me. A couple hours later, Joy had an accident (she swore me to secrecy because she loves Kelley so much and wants to be cool and doesn’t want him to know, so hopefully he will forget having read this sentence) and so she changed her pajamas and then crawled in between Clara and me. My rear was literally hanging off the edge of the bed.

So there I was this morning at 6 am. Smiling across the bed at Kelley, holding his hand across the tops of two little girl heads, and wondering how my heart can possibly have grown to be this huge without actually popping out of my body… and feeling like life can’t be any better than this.