Somehow, without fail, I make the bed and they find their way in.
I'd make the bed a thousand times over if it meant that I could freeze time. Some day, they won't do this, some day they'll be out of the house. So, when I find myself frustrated because I've made the bed over and over, I remind myself that they are only little once. These are the simple and special moments that make motherhood so sweet. When the third is old enough, she'll likely make her way to my freshly made bed, too.
I won't fret that the bed isn't perfect, I'll dive in between them and we'll laugh to our heart's content.