The Warmth of His Hand

I feel his palm warm against my arm, a slight movement of his fingers as his hand finally settles.  Tired, I only want to sleep, impatient and silently wishing for him to feed quickly so I can go back to bed. The memory is now barely there, the act of his hand grabbing onto my … Continue reading The Warmth of His Hand

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The Reality of Parenting

I attachment parent. I also dictate. My children have slept in my bed. Sometimes I snuck out to sleep in theirs. I wanted natural childbirth. I begged for drugs. In my mind I was cloth diapers. In reality, the disposables called out to me. I breastfed. Until I couldn't. I have spoken to them with … Continue reading The Reality of Parenting