sometimes all you have is currant tarts and a shared glass of milk, and he gives me the last sip.
us sitting in our pajamas in bed, giggling over our midnight snack and crumbs in the sheets and we don’t care.
days are crowded with little boy babble and baby dribble and peanut-butter kisses and veggie tales and dr. seuss, but come evening, we tuck them tight with their bunnies and we turn to each other and remember.
the love that makes us family.
