“YOU’RE MEAN!” Hearing those words for the first time didn’t go like I thought it would, sweet girl. I remember playing over and over in my head the day that you would scream, or squeak, or whisper that sentence because of frustration, or anger and I would let the tears fall. I would because I…
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Her face still has baby round cheeks that flush when she cries. She still plays with my hair (or yours) when she’s tired, or needs comfort, and her best friend, her soother, who she affectionately calls “ME-ME” still accompanies her to bed and in the car… or anywhere she can get away with. But as…
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