The great big bed

When we moved into the new house, one of our first orders of business was buying a new king-sized bed. With two little kids, it was impossible to have one of them in addition to us in the queen-sized bed and not wake up with bruised kidneys due to tiny, but powerful little arms and knees that seem to find the most sensitive spot to kick you at 3 a.m. after visiting complaining of a bad dream. 

So far, it's been mostly a good thing. We actually like cuddling with the kids (most days), but the best part is being able to pull them into bed with us and going back to sleep instead of having to constantly return them to their beds. I know, I know, we're supposed to break them of this habit and we will. Eventually. 

When Meg comes down in the middle of the night, she never just comes by herself. Instead she almost always brings some sort of accomplice in the form of a lovey (or multiple loveys) with her. I changed the sheets on Friday and this is what I found that had probably accumulated over a week. 

This morning was unusual -- we had both kids in bed with us (usually just one and usually just Meggie). Andy fell asleep on our bed with his head on the foot of the bed. Meg started in her own bed, but woke up screaming something around 3ish having rolled over on her Elmo book that makes noise.