I’m currently sitting cross legged on my couch, nursing a cup of hot chocolate while I bask in the glow of my inexpensive IKEA lamps. My living room is a mess of toys and shoes, and there’s remnants of someone’s snack mashed into the carpet. I’d like to say the kids are all tucked in and fast asleep upstairs, but I just heard P open the door so clearly sleep is not happening yet. Whatever. If I pretend I didn’t hear the door open he might just slink back in and go to bed. (A mom can dream, right?) Despite the mess and the crumbs and the shoes and the…