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I read a great quote the other day about parenting: The days are long but the months are short. 

I’m finding this especially true this week, which is my first solo week with both the kids (and both the dogs). The days seem eternal. Heck, the time from when they wake up to the time to the baby’s first nap seems eternal. Don’t even get me started on how bath time feels like it takes 6 hours. But, at the same time, the thought that the baby will be eight months old on Saturday blows my mind. 

I’m glad, though, that the days feel long. I know that when I look back many short years from now and think about when my kids were babies, I’ll know that I felt every minute (good and bad) of the time I spent with them. I think that will bring me a sense of peace and help me not to miss those babies as much when I’m in the company of their adult-selves.

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