Some days I forget to breath until I finally lay my head on the pillow, realizing that I’ve eaten a handful of Frosted Flakes and an on-the-go dinner.
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It strikes me as sadly ironic – as I’m clearing out my fall decorations to make room for Christmas – that there was no room for them in the inn.
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These days are not what I expected they would be. They are both harder and better. More chaotic and more satisfying. I thought the tired-eyed, fuzzy-headed, new mom thing would have worn off by now, but it hasn’t.
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