Good late-late-late night my friend.

For you, it might be morning, or afternoon, or late evening. What time of day do you check your blogs on Sundays? You may not even read this until the weekday starts and you’re looking for anything to read to take your mind off the fact that it’s Monday.

Do you love Mondays? I do.

Truly.

But right now it’s Saturday night, and the minute hand is quickly approaching midnight. My children haven’t stirred yet, which is great since for the past, well, summer, they have decided that the wee hours of the morning are a good time to army crawl into mommy and daddy’s bed.

I woke up one morning and found a sippy cup under my back. Felt good. I highly recommend it.

Just kidding, I don’t. It made my back hurt all day. I’m getting old. 

This is not what I wanted to post about. I really should be sleeping. What I wanted to talk about was what my husband said right before he drifted off to slumberland. He said, “Let’s rearrange the way we sleep so our children can’t hog all the space.”

My response: “Good plan.”Even though I didn’t rearrange myself at all. I kept reading the PIoneer Woman and thinking about food. But I did feel pretty special when Justin moved over to the middle of the bed and grabbed my hand.

I love when he holds my hand.

I also love when he scoots in closer to me.

I just love to be near him.

He’d already fallen asleep when I took this, but even though his fingers are relaxed, he still had a tight grip on my hand.

Can I swoon over hand-holding?

Sure – why not?

Since I didn’t want to let go of his hand, I found out I’m pretty good at scrolling through websites left-handed. Ambidextrous-osity is my new talent.

Sorry…off track. It’s late.

We have a king-sized bed, which to my children translates as big-enough-for-the-entire-family. For the last few several million nights, I have gone to sleep with room to spare, and awoke with a two-and-a-half year old on my left between me and my man, a seven-year-old sprawled across my feet, pinning me in position, and a five-year-old curled into me so he doesn’t fall off the edge of the bed.

Thankfully, Mr. Sippy Cup has not returned.

But tonight, my former Marine proposed a new strategy that I hope will work, although our sweet little boys will no doubt form a new strategy of their own so they can cuddle and feel safe next to us.

I think I’m okay with that.

And since I’m ready to be holding my love’s hand again, I’ll bid you a good night.

Sleep tight!

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