The most wonderful sound to wake up to on a weekday morning is the pitter patter of little feet running down the hall towards our bedroom. I first hear the sounds of the creak of a door, the quiet click as the door catches in the latch, and then soft footsteps of sock-clad feet making their way towards our bed. Our door creaks open, and in runs a little 4-year-old boy. I can hear the smile on his face as he tells me “good morning, Mommy”. He then clambers over me, then quickly hunkers down next to me in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Some days he tells me about his dreams, other days he remains quiet, and I wait to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, letting me know he has drifted back off to sleep. On these mornings, I shut my alarm off and snuggle him close, for I know these kinds of mornings will not last forever.