And then they were three

wThis morning I woke up sandwiched between two growing three year olds.  My first thought was that we'd over slept.  Then I remembered it was the end of daylight savings time and that rather than losing a day, we'd gained an hour, I went back to sleep.  When I woke a few hours later, there was only one little in bed next to me, snoring loudly and kicking me in the back. The other one I could hear playing trains, quietly, by himself. He had neither woken anyone or cried out for help for as long as I had been in that semi-conscious half-sleep, half-awake state.  We have arrived.  Madison and Kenton are three.

I am sitting here right now, a little bit like I used to when I could put them in their barca-loungers and play classical music, typing and thinking and listening to their sounds like so much heart-warming background noise.  I am writing a blog post while my children, who are no refusing to nap for me on the weekends (thank goodness they still nap at school) are playing together with their drums, and airplanes.  Kenton just worked on a project, repairing Madison's plastic fireman hat which Madison then took apart to repair their electric airplane.