The Motherlode of Love
I encourage my daughter to stay in her own bed, telling her I can't sleep as well when she is wedged in between myself and my husband. She thinks this is due to the cramped quarters, but actually it is not. I can't sleep because I can't help staring at her face, perfectly lost in dreamland. I can't sleep because I can't believe my luck and fortune that this little face beside me, this beautiful person is my daughter. She is seven years old, but the wonder of her is new to me every day.
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