I spent the night sandwiched between two boys.
Children in my bed is not something I love, promote, encourage, or allow, and yet it happens. Tuck was there because he was sick and I didn't want to make three dozen trips down the hall during the night. Tyler started out in a 'nest' of pillows and blankets on the floor next to my bed (because who on earth could ask him to sleep in a room by himself??), and then he migrated under the blankets with me. Us.
Throughout the night, one child or another put his finger up my nose, elbowed me in the neck, put his knee in my spine, and stepped on my hair.
Tyler woke up this morning and said, "Wow. That was such a quick night! I feel like you were saying good night prayers, and suddenly it was morning. Such a quick night."
Not the word I would choose.
The things a parent endures for their children is seemingly endless.