Sometimes on Saturday afternoons I prowl the house while my family naps and I’m tired too, but there’s too much to do and I drank too much coffee, so I stare at each of you and thank God for the simple blessings of sweet, sleeping children and hushed husbands who aren’t complaining about the dishes or kicking toys to make a path to walk.

I whisper softly how much I love them, knowing they will probably never know. I watch Grey’s Anatomy on the DVR and cry over fictitional storylines when my storyline rivals TV’s best in the best of way possible.

When all my days are as spent as my energy level, I try to never forget nothing else matters more than the in and out of your breath and smiles on your face. We see a lot of smiles around here and do a lot of kissing and I hope that never changes, even though years of adolescent torture on my part that are bound to come.

I pray what we’ve found in our little piece of reality heaven stays like this forever.