It wasn’t a perfect life, it wasn’t glamorous or easy—there would be spilled juice and Goldfish crumbs and fights to break up and endless crying and sleepless nights and exhausted days. But it would be our life, and somehow I knew there would be more than enough laughter and joy and pride and happiness to balance out the difficult times. And at the end of every day, there would be a little space and time carved out for just the two of us, where we’d hold each other and act like it was just the two of us again—at least until our rambunctious little rug rats got old enough to come busting into
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