But then, at 2 in the morning, everything is alright again. For you see, at 2 a.m. the little girl wanders over unusually fussy and nervous. At 2 in the morning you both dart out of bed and pat her back and encourage her to not be upset, that this happens to everyone. At 2 a.m. he finds your glasses in the dark and you both give her a warm bath and he calls the front desk for more towels and you rearrange the beds. And at 2 in the morning you both know that this is totally doable.
You smile and laugh a lot more the next day. On the drive to work, in the rain, on the side of the road you coach eachother on where the trash bags are and napkins. On the way home you do more of the same, and each pick a child to carry inside. You both agree to take the elevator instead of the stairs, and he buys you dunkable Trader Joe's cookies to go with the chicken noodle soup and your heart swells just knowing that the chaos is subsiding and things are going to be great.