PenPenWrites

I wake up this morning to the sounds of my house. All the beds in it were full last night: Uber son and his family have come home for a weekend visit.

It is an hour before I usually get up, but I hear my toddler Grand. She woke up in a cheery mood and is now pattering around the house–her mom in tow–having a babbling conversation with herself. It's such a happy sound–like a soft, lilting song. Then I hear the "big kids." They are up and around and leave a more definitive step on the stairs.

Now they are all in the kitchen. I can hear cereal plopping into bowls, milk being poured and the chatter, chatter, chatter of children in the morning–a little tiff over something or other but otherwise breakfast is being wolfed down while I pull myself out of bed.

My house has come alive. It is stretching and expanding to shelter and care for them. Me, too.