I like waking up to a giggle.
I like the sun on my face, gradually prying open a reluctant eyelid.
I like toes touching toes, the snugly warmth of knowing that my bed is shared...
And suddenly invaded.
Saturday morning is a rare delicacy. A lot of things have to "click" for it to be just right. Sometimes, Jonathan works. Sometimes, the kids wake up at 7:30. But on the ideal Saturday, the 10 o' clock sun and a tousled head are my alarm clock.
It's usually Lori first. She always looks delightfully surprised when she clambers onto our sleigh bed and finds both me and daddy there. It's an automatic invitation to cuddle, tickle, snuggle, and sing. The little ruckus eventually stirs up Ben, who marches up to the bed, a secret smile behind his sucked thumb, and plants himself just so under my arm. No chatting for him...just pure studly loving. Leah usually arrives last, crawling up to the door and peeping in, quiet as a mouse, until we notice her.
And then, for maybe thirty minutes, we wake ourselves up slowly. Many kisses, hugs, cuddles, and wrestles later, we eventually roll out of bed one at a time.
These Saturday mornings sometimes make me think that life with just one bed might not be so bad. All five of us, piled up warm and happy, just delighting in each other for a few minutes, looking forward to a day filled with moments of joy, moments of together. Of course, I know that the arm thrown across my face and the kicks to the gut would get old quick, and five people in one bed would not really be fun. I like to know, though, that if there ever comes a time when our family needs to live more simply, with fewer luxuries, that we would be able to find the little delights...like the Saturday morning family bed.