I had made it. If you didn't know, the race between after supper and bedtime can be a marathon. This night I was not crossing the finish line in a sprint. I crawled across...right to the couch. I needed to be horizontal.

This is the time of day I lay there thinking of all the things I should probably be doing to get ready for the next day. Keying in on the word should. But I can't move. I just finished a marathon.

Until I felt something scratchy against my arm. I turned my head to see what in the world....?

It was one of those moments that either make you want to scream from the "I can't believe this is my life-ness," or die laughing from the "I can't believe this is my life-ness" of it all.

Boogers. On my couch. Boogers. I repeat. Stuck to my couch. In a perfectly, not perfect pattern. Scattered all around. Scratching my arm. In my post marathon state.

As I remained horizontal, looking at this scratchy booger art, I'm not gonna lie. I cried a little.

Then I began to laugh and ponder life without boogers.

Life without the smells that those sweet little booger artists bring. And the squeals those smells bring.

Life without the "I'm hungry's," the balls flying at me head (my reflexes have greatly improved), without the boy explosions, without the kisses, and tiny strong arms around my neck.

You see, that wouldn't be my life at all. Life without boogers on my couch wouldn't be life at all.

There is nothing in the world like being a mom to boys. It's wild. It's loud. It's hard. It's fun.

I. Love. It.

And don't worry, I routinely check the couch and keep it clean...