these fifteen minutes

We can hear the twins chatting upstairs in their cribs, most likely tossing stuffed animals back and forth. Soon, we’ll hear them transition to sing-yelling, the signal they’re ready to get dressed. There’s no doubt that Ames is awake and staring faithfully at his clock, waiting for it to turn green. Soon, we’ll hear his sweet feet pattering down the stairs and into our bedroom.

Until then, though, these fifteen minutes are ours.

Chris prepares my iced coffee and his hot tea. We eat breakfast; sometimes together, sometimes not. He prefers to eat the same thing each morning, but I like to switch things up. My favorite indulgence is a bowl of deliciously unhealthy cereal that I keep hidden from the kids.

It doesn’t matter if we’re checking emails or reading or talking quietly on the couch or still lying in bed with our treats. Soon, the world will catch up to us. But right now, these fifteen minutes are ours.