It’s morning, and the coffee maker gurgles it’s last drips of piping hot fresh coffee into the pot. My boys race to the kitchen to be the one who gets to prepare my first cup of the day. It’s delivered to my hands, wherever I am, followed up with the first smile, kiss and hug of the day.  As my girls sleepily descend down the stairs, they are collided by one brother or other, greeted with a hug of their own, the moment their foot hits the bottom of the staircase.  I watch, as I sip my coffee, still waking up, happy to see they are happy to see each other, every morning.  They pour cereal and milk in the kitchen, and chat too much all through breakfast, reliving many amusements that still make them all laugh again, for the millionth time.… Read More