5:12 a.m.

I had gone to bed late.  Ryan and Cade (along with Quinn and Levi) were traveling back from Las Vegas across treacherous roads.  I knew I wouldn't sleep well unless I was completely exhausted.  So I wrapped presents, cleaned the kitchen, folded clothes and read a book.  I prayed the whole time that they would be sensible, that if they needed to, they would find a hotel, or at least just drive slowly.

When I finally fell asleep, it was a deep, deep sleep.  No tossing and turning or checking the clock.  Until 5:12 a.m.  Suddenly I bolted upright-from slumber to complete awareness.  My heart was beating so hard it hurt. The boys weren't home!  My mind flashed to everything that could have gone wrong.  I laid back down, praying that they were OK.  I was just about to reach for my cell phone when I heard a car pull into the drive. Checking the clock, I noticed that less than two minutes had passed since I had woken up so frightened.  I flew downstairs, threw open the door and welcomed two very tired travelers.


So why? Why in the world did I wake up less than two minutes before they got home?  Mere coincidence doesn't fit my notion of a good story.  Initially, I was afraid that it was a premonition of something bad, but when I woke up they were just driving home from Quinn's house.  My romantic side wants to say that it's because Ryan and I are so in tune with one another.  In the end, I think it was one of those tender mercies that allowed me to sleep peacefully, but still gave them a warm welcome home.  (That looked a lot like me running through the snow without shoes or a coat....)