It's 4:01 a.m. Across the hall, my baby boy just laughed in his sleep. His twin sister, in the next bed over, responded with an unconscious snort. They're kiddos now, not really babies anymore. And they're going to start their day in approximately three hours.
Me? I'm writing. I haven't been to bed. My husband is snoring, the streets are silent, it's now 4:03 a.m. and I have little kids. Why am I writing? I should be in bed.
But I'm writing. I'm not where I should be, and right where I belong.
And you? You're here, so have a look around. I hope you'll feel like you belong, too.