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My sweet baby has started rubbing my skin as I nurse her. I can feel her tiny hand move back and forth along my love handles and sometimes she wedges her little hand into my armpit for comfort, as my bulging breast feeds her life sustaining nutrients.
Her other hand grasps a fist full of my shirt as if she wants to pull me closer, look me in the eyes, and level with me:
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For most of us there is definitely an insufficient amount of sleep. Always.
When baby comes out and we gage whether that baby is good enough by if they sleep well. I guess you would describe every single one of my kids as bad kids/sleepers. For years I have woken up multiple times a night to either comfort a screaming child, or to return a child back to their bed who has been in my bed for who knows how long.
I just found out that one of my friends has lost most of her vision permanently in one eye due to a stroke.
My eyes, my vision, I totally take it for granted, I just expect them to show up for me daily and do what I need. In fact most of the time the notice I give my eyes are looking at the color, or wishing my eyelids weren’t so thick so I could put eyeshadow on differently.