Snuggles

I was talking to Jaime, Sam's mom, today about how in the last several months Ellie wakes up from anywhere from 4-6a.m. and comes into our room announcing in her gruff little voice, "MY BELLY HURTS!" It doesn't really hurt, that is her ploy for sympathy and in hopes that we will let her crawl between us, snuggle in and go back to sleep. Well I guess I can't really call it a ploy because the littlest Simpson owns us. We let her in every.single.time. It's just too cute and she goes right back to sleep and well, I really don't care. She is three. In light of all of the relatively crappy news we have heard over the last several years  about sick kids, my opinions on things like sleep training have been brought into glaring perspective. Kids  we know directly or though other friends, are struggling with knowing that  their child could die or are enduring horrific medical treatments. Many parents have had to face the horrible reality of losing their child.  My kid is fine. She is healthy and spunky and lovely and you know what?  I am going to snuggle her up every minute I can. Not just because health and life is fleeting but because so is the amount of time I have that my little girl will want to snuggle between her parents. All too soon I know she will have to be pried out of her bed. She will stumble to the bathroom grouchily if she is anything like her mother,  and I may get a "Whatever" if I am lucky. I will take all the, "Me love you best!" and early morning snuggles I can get.  Mostly because I want to appreciate what I have, while I have it, but also because is there anything sweeter than a toddler in the middle of a giant kind sized bed, nose to nose with her daddy?