Archive for the 'Reproduction' Category

Sex After Baby

admin March 8th, 2009

Inspired in part by the frank talk on this issue over at Motherhood Uncensored, I am writing today about something that it seems even the most open and honest mothers don’t talk about: Post Partum Sex. I don’t know why we don’t talk about it, but we don’t. And we should.

Case in point: me. I am not a modest person. I don’t care who knows about what surgery or procedure I have or haven’t had done. I heard and told others all about the myriad of scary and disgusting things that could or would happen to my body during pregnancy and birth. I love talking about boobs. My son’s poop schedule is definitely fair game. And before having a kid, sex, and even more intimately, the sex I was having, was not an infrequent topic. But for some reason sex after kids just seems taboo. Maybe for me it was because there was an issue where there never was one before, and it was well, embarrassing, and worrying and just so personal. But mothers need to know these things and hidden as I am in my anonymity, I think its time for me to share.

At one point I was worried that I would never enjoy sex with my husband again. This terrified me. It was awful. And by the way, now it is better than ever – if that’s possible. Come along for the ride.

My son’s birth was necessarily quick, but not hugely traumatic. I was glad for the epidural when stitched up, told I had first to second degree tears, and that I could resume sex again after the traditional 6 weeks. Being young and therefore resilient, I healed fairly quickly and looked forward with my husband to that important date. At around 4-5 weeks we tested the waters, but some pain convinced us that we should wait until my check-up to avoid any re-injury. We were right on track. We were playing by the rules. We were going to win. Yay.

I went in for my checkup and was told that I had “perfect vagina.” I have to admit that the declaration did quite a bit to stoke my ego. How many other people are told that their junk is perfect, by someone well qualified to know? Apparently I had healed so well that my OBGYN mistakenly thought that there hadn’t been any tearing at all during the birth. If crowns were awarded to vaginas, I’m sure mine would have gotten one. A big sparkly golden 1st place one. And so I took my “perfect” vagina home.

But something was wrong. Sex hurt. No, that’s not accurate, because sex didn’t happen. Any entry hurt. A lot. It was horrible. It was like re-virgination – but worse. Some looking around online told me that I perhaps did have a little scarring, and that this was causing some entry pain. We waited two weeks, and it didn’t improve. So we waited another week. Still pain. At around three months post partum I was prepared to call my OBGYN for an appointment. Sex, I had decided, was an important part of my life and relationship and I was not about to give it up. I wanted good sex back. I needed it. Finally we decided to wait another few weeks, and try some tips I found, if only to convince my OB that this was serious.

And about that time things started getting better. There was still some pain, but it slowly slowly lessened. Lube helped. Regaining my period at around 6 months helped. My son is now 8 months old, and things are much better. I still need my husband to ease into it a little at the beginning, but I actually enjoy the experience on the whole more than before. I’m tighter, and better than ever. I’d always heard that having a baby stretched a woman out. I asked my husband before the birth whether he’d mind being the “hotdog in the hallway.” I’d never heard of the opposite happening, but it did for me. And it might for you. Maybe some people can resume pansy gentle no orgasm sex in six weeks. In my experience, real sex takes longer, even if you do happen to be perfect.

And that’s my story. Happy humping, all you new mothers.

Motherhood: The Good

admin February 19th, 2009

I had always planned to have kids after tenure. It seemed like the ideal plan. I would have plenty of time to cement my career, I would be in good financial shape, and I would be ready to stay in one place for a while. Perfect. That was until I actually counted out the years it would take to make that plan happen. I figured out that if everything went swimmingly, this plan would have me start trying for a baby at 35. 35. The age of the beginning of high risk. A little more research told me that women as young as their upper 20s were starting to have trouble conceiving. This came as a shock. My god, I thought to myself, there is no way that I can wait that long. So, what am I going to do? When should I do this? When is the perfect time?

My research told me that there was no perfect time. Super. Well then, I thought, how about now?

So I went online to try to find stories of other women who had kids in their late 20s, before their careers were cemented, before they had everything completely under control, before they were completely sure that they were ready to settle down. And what I found was horrible. I found statistics on how doing so would almost certainly negatively affect my career. I found stories about how kids had ruined marriages. And most frightening, I found stories, dozens of stories, about how difficult, time consuming, draining, mind-numbing, exhausting, intimacy-killing, and completely unlike the fantasy of being a mother can be. And though I looked, it was very difficult to find out why these woman had kids, often multiple kids, in the first place. Aren’t kids, on some level, supposed to be a good thing?

My research was incredibly depressing. Of course, these are important stories to tell. It would be horrible to begin motherhood only to be sorely disappointed. Women need to hear these stories. Mothers need to tell them. But what people seem to forget or neglect to tell is just how wonderful it is, too.

Sure, I don’t have job right now, but I am working on that. I see great things on the horizon, and for the time being, I am having a blast being a mom. I’ve always been an overgrown kid, so I love that my son gives me an excuse to spend most of my time just playing. I can’t tell you how fun it is to show him things that I have seen over and over again, but for him it is the very first time. OH MY GOD THE SWIFFER – HOW AWESOME! or, THE DOOR, IT OPENS!! AND CLOSES!! SHIT YEAH!! Or DOOOGS I LOVE DOOOOGSS. I’m paraphrasing here.

Another thing is that unlike my last job, every day is different and self-directed. Every day my son is different. Every day there is something new to show him. And there is no one around to tell that it really isn’t what I should be doing.

I loved being pregnant. Seriously. I have never felt sexier or more womanly. And knowing that my body was creating a little person? Just incredible.

Breast feeding for me has been awesome, and not just in that hippie, I am sooo doing what is best for my son, way. It is convenient, it gives me big boobs, and thanks to the calorie output, I am in better shape weight wise than I have probably been in a decade. Diaper changes are not nearly as bad as people will tell you. It’s poop. It happens. Get over it. Plus, when the diaper is off, you can have fun kissing your little tot all over, or letting him get in a little unencumbered (and seriously cute) naked time on the floor. Though I would love a full night’s sleep without interruption, that hasn’t affected me nearly as badly as I thought it would, since really I am only getting up twice a night or so, and am able to sleep in as late as he does. And you want to know a secret? Though many babies are worse than mine when it comes to sleep, many babies are far better as well. Booya.

Because I’m a younger mom, I have more energy to devote to motherhood. I have more time to pursue other things in the years ahead. I have more young friends without kids willing to baby-sit. My pregnancy was easier, and the birth less complicated. Though I’m not employed, I now have a perfectly legitimate reason for my time away. If I decide to have a second child, I will have more time that I feel I can wait to make that decision. I don’t have to worry as much about my ticking clock. I will be younger when my baby moves out of the house. Young enough, my husband and I agree, to do so many things that we will still want to do.

When you’re a mom and you’re in trouble, nothing is more important than letting people know, and having others rally around to support you. I should know. I’ve done it. But for those girls desperately searching somewhere, anywhere, for a few reasons why having a kid might not be so bad, might be fun, might just be something she would like to do, I think we need to write just a little bit more about how incredible the experience is too.

Vaccines

admin February 9th, 2009

A friend of mine just wrote me asking if I had my son on a regular vaccination schedule. She has read all kinds of scary things about vaccines, and as she knows I tend to do exhaustive research when it comes to important parenting decisions, she wanted my opinion. My answer to her, was yes yes yes! I have my son on a full, non-delayed vaccination schedule. Why? Because my research demonstrated to me that the risks of not vaccinating were far greater for my child, and others, than the potential risks of the vaccines.

Short version:
Vaccination is a parent’s choice, but it is also the parent’s responsibility to learn the risks involved. There is absolutely no good evidence to show that vaccinations are more harmful than the risk of disease if not administered. Please follow the links at the end – these are truly excellent resources.

Long Version:
Every (normal) parent wants to do what is best for their child. I fully support the right of a parent to decide what exactly “best” means for them. I certainly don’t want anyone yanking my child away when I let him play in the dirt, or stand outside in the rain, or don’t always put his socks on. I fully plan in the future to let my son (gasp!) go outside to play unsupervised. Shoot, I might even let him have an occasional sip of wine at Christmas as he ages, just to prove to him that he doesn’t yet like it. I will fight for you as a parent to parent as long as 1. This decision does not unduly harm your child and 2. This decision does not put me and my child at significant risk.

Those people who fed their kid nothing but fish oil, nuts, and parsley (or whatever it was) despite the child’s evident malnutrition do not deserve to be left alone to parent how they see fit. People who teach their kids to shoot other people, well, they don’t really deserve the right to parent either. But I support a parent’s right to decide what medications their child receives, especially since all medications come with inherent risk. What many parents don’t understand however is that not medicating is also a risk.

There has been a general trend lately to trust that which is “natural.” I can understand this. In fact, I am part of this trend. Too many times have we been mislead by government and industry to trust that the things available to us as medication, food, etc. are necessarily safe. I buy organic. I buy free range. I use vinegar and lemon and soapy water instead of manufactured cleaners. But “natural” isn’t ALWAYS better.

Back when things were much more natural, people died. A lot. They died horrible deaths, in pain, in vomit and feces, delirious, emaciated, with weeping sores and draining eyes. These formerly healthy people died, and this happened all the time. The reason why we don’t realize how bad many “natural” diseases are is because we don’t see them any more. Because of vaccines. If you really want an idea of what you are risking when you don’t vaccinate your child, go to a hospital where someone is dealing with measles, or mumps, or whooping cough. Believe me, it looks much much worse than the low grade fever or other side effects commonly associated with vaccinations.

Now ask yourself, if you would support the right of a parent to purposely give their child one of these life-threatening diseases. Of course you wouldn’t. But it’s not so easy. No one wants the vaccinations they give to their child to end up in harm. Many parents will delay vaccination schedules with no long term ill effects, but delaying a vaccine creates the risk that the child will develop the disease before the shot is delivered. Let me make myself clear. I have friends with kids on delayed schedules. I support their right to do this; I just don’t think that it is the best decision.

And here is my support:

Article: parenting magazine - a wonderful synopsis of fears and facts
http://www.parenting.com/article/Baby/Health/Vaccines-Fact-and-Fiction/1

Skeptic Dad – A really excellent blog chronicling vaccine fearmongers and the actual facts (and more)
http://skepticdad.wordpress.com/vaccines/

Autism Myths – Everything you ever wanted to know about autism (that is actually true)
http://autism-myths.org/

Science-Based Medicine – A site maintained by MDs and PhDs, good for vaccine info and much, much more
http://www.sciencebasedmedicine.org/

These links will provide you with some excellent resources on the real science behind vaccination risks. I could re-hash this here, but these really do a wonderful job. There is so much misinformation on the web. Let scientifically based, accurately reported resources inform your decision.

My Kid is a Retard

admin January 30th, 2009

Well, not really. Or at least I don’t think so. But sometimes …

Let me explain. Way back before a sperm fertilized an egg in my uterus , I heard about how competitive moms can be, how they are always comparing every tiny milestone, how annoying it is, and how mostly these things have no correlation to later performance. How petty, no? So, I thought to myself, well, I won’t be like that. I won’t go around comparing my kid to anyone else’s. Those moms are nuts. I am totally better than that. And I am, I mean, was.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that I had meant that I wouldn’t go around making other parents feel bad when their kid wasn’t as smart and talented as mine. I mean, I have some pretty good genetic material floating around in here. It’s not the other kids’ fault that their parents didn’t set them up as well. Not everyone can be above average.

What I didn’t consider, not for a second, was that I might be the one whose kid seemed a little slow. He’s six and a half months, and I think, probably doing just fine. But it is hard to go to playgroup and see the 7 month old who has been crawling for 3 months, and the 7.5 month old pulling up when we’re still working on unassisted sitting. Even the kid who refused to grab at things for like 5 months now seems to be on track to surpass my son. Also, he babbles, but I’ve yet to hear anything that sounds remotely like “mamma.” How did this happen?

I have interject here that playgroup may be a skewed sample set. Yes, I have a PhD, but let’s see, two moms’ husbands are currently working on their doctorate, one is a lawyer, one works for a prestigious management consulting firm, etc. etc. So, if it were just playgroup, well then I could console myself with the fact that we’re hanging out with little geniuses. But it’s not just playgroup. Even the dumb relative’s kids are outpacing him. That’s right. Dweedle and Deedle’s son is totally crawling, and cousin Cletis is mamamama-ing up a storm. Urrghhg!

Aside from the fact that I have been completely blindsided not only by my son’s slower development, but also how much it is affecting me, others feel the need to speculate on how these events might be connected to my mothering decisions. Maybe I should have given him formula. Maybe I should have had him start foods sooner. Maybe if we hadn’t swaddled him so long.. Maybe if we let him watch some TV…maybe maybe maybe.

So I am trying just to make sure that he is in the normal RANGE and am waiting until his perfect SAT scores, or his winning orchestral compositions, or his Pulitzer-prize winning novel produce that luxuriously fulfilling feeling of vindication. Until then, well honey, I’ll still love you, even if you are retarded.

Just poking my head out

admin January 8th, 2009

To say to all of you who read this, and all of you who will read this.

IT DOES GET BETTER!

Dude. This Mom gig is so much fun. I “almost” think that I could do this full time. Just wish the pay was better.

To my Boy, Nearly 5 Months

admin December 4th, 2008

Dear baby boy,

In a few days you will be 5 months old. You have changed so much in the last few weeks. Before I forget all those little wonderful things that make you the boy you are right now, let me put down just a few.

Right now I am listening to you breathe having just given you your bath, wrapped you up, and put you to bed in your room. You went to sleep before I could even gather my things and leave, as you do most nights, and for this I thank you. It is easy to congratulate myself on getting you to be such a good sleeper, but I know that much is to do with you. You are such a good baby. In and out in and out, you breathe as you play: hard, fast, and with vigor. I go to bed every night with your monitor beside me, and I have found that I cannot sleep if the volume is turned too low, so that I cannot hear your rhythmical breath beside me. The monitor we have also features live video, a wonderful invention that allows me to spy on you even in a dark room. Every night just before I snuggle in with your dad, I turn on the picture to get one last look at you, your hair, your head, your nose, your little fingers, before I go to sleep.

The monitor has a green light that at night is the only illumination in your room. Sometimes when you wake up you must stare at that little light because it looks like you are looking right at me through the monitor. Please quit doing that. At 2AM it really creeps me out.

I must tell you that t is difficult for me that I still have not found a job. You may learn when you get older of the economic downturn which has made things difficult for many people in this country. What it has meant for this family is that your Dad is the sole income source and though I am a very qualified, smart young woman, I just cannot find a position in our city. This means that we can pay bills, but all saving and any kind of non-essential spending has stopped, and we are slowly draining our available reserves. I tell you this not to complain, but to let you know then how much I enjoy our days together, that I half-heartedly mentioned just the other day that I wouldn’t really care if I ever went back to work. Now, someday soon, I’d love a job. I love what I have learned to do and the potential of what I have yet to learn. But I had no idea how completely miserable I will be when I don’t get to spend the most part of every day with you. The first day I leave you with someone else, I know I will break down. And as you will learn, I am not a crier.

What do I enjoy about our days together? Recently, most everything. I love watching you explore new things, touching them first with your hands, and then your tongue. I love how fascinated you are with our dogs, and how hard you try to reach out to them, how you smile when they lean over to sniff your head. I love seeing you furrow your brow when you encounter something new, thinking, figuring, learning. I love that you smile at me when I make animal noises and sing off key to you from the shower. I love how you study me in our quiet moments, softly reaching up to touch my face. I love the squeal you make as I kiss the back of your knee, and how you now start to smile in anticipation at the first “little piggie” And though you still pull my hair and it still hurts like hell, your improving motor skills, it seems, allows you to let go a little sooner.

Most mornings I hear you waking on the monitor and after making sure that you won’t go back to sleep I go into your room to say good morning. I have to say that I have yet to find anything more delicious that seeing you look up at me, for an instant with a little frown as your little brain works to compute what it is seeing, and then watching your eyes crinkle and your grin spread all across your face, your toothless gums wide and happy. I know all mothers must feel this way, but there is nothing better than your smile. “Good morning!” I say, and you grin. “It’s your Mommy!” I say, and you grin. “Hi there!” grin.

It’s not just your smiles that have made my days with you recently so enjoyable. Now you are at an age where you love to play. You want to touch, to smell, to hear, to understand everything. For about a week I took you all over the house and held you up to everything I could think of: the printer, the window, the washing machine, the pantry, flowers in a vase, running water in the sink, and you put your hand out again and again, brow furrowed, studying. And then, you got bored. You still like these things, but they seem to hold your interest less and less so these days we go out. You love walks outside in the sling, and so do I, you with a leaf in one hand, and my finger in another; I with you in front of me, pointing out birds, clouds, the names of trees… You also love the mall with its myriad things to see, including the wonderful glass elevator. We are slowly getting to know our neighbors, the proprietors of our local stores, and various workmen who frequent our neighborhood.

I like to eat your fingers and kiss your neck. You like me to stroke your cheek. I like to smell your head. You like me to bark like a dog.

Bath time is great fun for both of us. You seem to love being naked, and regardless of how fussy tired you were just before we plop you in the water, you are all grins as you do your best to splash every bit of moisture out of both our tubs. Usually your dad helps give you a bath, and our routine now requires three washcloths: one for me, one for him, and one for you to hold onto. You still try to steal ours though. Greedy little baby.

The last few days, your Dad has had to work so much that he has left before you were up in the morning, and returned after you went to sleep. Thankfully he won’t have to do this much longer, but it has driven home even more how much he loves you too. The other morning, around 5AM, I asked him to change your diaper for me. I have never seen anyone so giddy to change a dirty diaper. “He’s so cute!” he exclaimed, and I agreed. Not many people are cute at 5AM, sitting in their own feces.

So son, I hope as they say, that every age is the best age, but I sure am enjoying this one. When, not too long ago, after tearing up at yet another diapers commercial, I said to my husband, “Oh, I want one of those!” and thought about all those incredible, wonderful, not to be missed moments I would have with my very own baby, well, this is exactly what I wanted.

Things I Would have Missed

admin October 15th, 2008

If I had been at work today:

Pro: Watching my baby sleep
Con: Middle of the night break down due to sleep deprivation

Pro: “…and they rolled their terrible eyes, and they gnashed their terrible teeth…”
Con: “Just tell me why you’re crying!!”

Pro: Watching and listening to early morning birds.
Con: Picking the long deceased and maggotty bird corpse off of the rug.

Pro: Seeing my son recognize himself in the mirror for the first time.
Con: Poop explosion all over the front of my shirt.

Pro: Sleeping in
Con: Have I brushed my teeth today?

My, how the days fly

admin October 8th, 2008

Dear Son,

Yesterday you turned three months old. You cannot realize until you have your own child how much you have changed in these few short weeks. You have become a handsome and engaging little kid, and I have to say that I have more fun with you each day.

First of all, I want to go ahead and say thank you. Thank you for sleeping like a champ every night, and thank you for not having colic. You have no idea how much those two things have positively affected our relationship. We’re still working on naps, but naps are cake compared to some of the horrible times I know my fellow mothers are having at night. I understand your reluctance to take naps. I never wanted to miss out on the day either.

Supposedly babies are at their worst in fussiness at 6 weeks, but yours was the worst instead at 9. Everything that I had learned to soothe you failed. The mom with the confidence that she could quiet your crying within seconds melted away. I thought that perhaps it was due to your immunizations, but a call to the nurse confirmed that in the absence of other symptoms, shots shouldn’t be affecting you one week later. (By the way, you took those shots like a champ.) Finally I wrote an email to my friend A, and she suggested what I had suspected, which was that you were bored. I had thought that surely 2 months was too young to start getting bored, but boy was I wrong. Tired of looking at my sorry mug all day, you wanted something else to do. So, I started holding you so that you could see out, and bought you a play gym, and you have been a happy baby ever since. That thing and those birds on the mobile over your crib are your favorite things in all the world.

You have also had some digestive problems that I had sought help for through my facebook friends. One of them has suggested saving those conversations to embarrass you with much later, so if that happens, let me just apologize now. I am sure that if you are reading this, you have learned to poop at night if you need to, and gas releases just fine from your butt without having anything placed up in there. Most likely, you have learned that last one a little too well.

I finally think I have figured out that you don’t do well when I eat dairy, so I’m saying goodbye to all things made with cow’s milk, including yogurt, ice cream, and worst of all, cheese. When you are a teenager and ask me what have I ever done for you, giving up cheese will be the second thing I say, right after that horrible 9 months without booze. If when you get older, you fall in love and marry a woman, and you two have a child together, do her a favor and do without alcohol the entire pregnancy. If you do this, I know you will call me one day and say, thank you, I had no idea how bad it was until now.

In the last month you have gotten strong enough to begin to hold up your head, which has allowed you to do all kinds of new and wonderful things. One of your Dad’s favorite things to do is to boost you over his head, tummy side down, and pretend you are flying like superman. He’s great at the wooshing noises. I have to say that there is nothing more attractive than seeing your husband run your baby all over the house like a loon. You also enjoy sitting on my lap every morning on the porch looking out at the trees. Today I think you heard rain for the first time, and you seemed enthralled. I hope you always appreciate the wonders of the outdoors.

By far, the best part of these last two months has been your smiles. There is nothing in this world like going in to get you after a nap and seeing you look up, recognize me, and grin your gummy grin all across your face. I love to sing you songs or dance you around, or show you those wonderful ceiling fans, just to get a few grins out of you. And just about the time that you are getting tired of me, your Dad comes home and you seem to think, “DAD! It’s Dad! Oh my god! Dad!” And then you melt him with a grin, just like you have been doing to me all day. It seems to me that adults lose this ability to be so completely happy. Well kiddo, every day you help me remember.

And one more thing, little baby. Just the last few days, you have started doing this thing where you emit these horrible, loud, high pitched screams or grunts or screeches, and then you look at us. You seem to have figured out that when you make these noises, we immediately run to you, thinking that surely you are about to die. And then after we do this, you give a smile, but not one of your big wide smiles, so help me, it looks like a smirk. I am starting to think you know what you are doing. I think you have already started to test us. And if this is true, then that means that I will really need to be on top of things to be a good mother to you.

When my mom had talked on and on about how smart you looked when you were born, I thought that she was just being a doting grandmother. But more and more people are making these comments, people who don’t tend to make things up just to be nice, and I myself have started thinking that I agree with them. This means, little baby, that you are smart and precocious just like your parents. This is something that your father and I knew could happen, and talked about at length even before I got pregnant. Both of us gave our parents some real challenges as kids, and we could only imagine how if that combined you would test us. Now that it appears to be coming true, let me say this:

Bring it, little baby. Bring it.

Truly, I can’t wait. Happy Birthday.

Mourning

admin September 25th, 2008

As an only child I’d always wondered why people had multiple children. Everything that you could experience with two or three you could more easily do with one. The egg hunts, the fairs, the forts, the apple picking, the cupcakes, competitions, childhood exploration, developmental milestones, and I love yous are all just as open to parents of singles as multiples. Admission to children’s events, as far as I know, don’t discriminate. Likewise I had seen how tired the parents of multiple children seemed. Always doing something for one or another, they never seemed to have any time for themselves. I had watched parents who had easily integrated one child into their family take on a look of chaos and fear with the addition of another. Why? I thought, why do it?

I still think that logically, one is a good number. I like still being able to believe that my husband and I will be able to do many of the things we enjoyed sans child as well as all those wonderful things that I am so looking forward to experiencing with my son. But I think I’m beginning to understand those parents. I’m beginning to imagine what kind of mix another genetic roulette spin might produce. Our son is so cute. What would his brother look like? What would our little girl look like? How would another child’s personality mirror his? What does he share with us and what is really, distinctly, his?

And there’s another thing people don’t tell you. They don’t warn you that you will have to fall in love with your child over and over again because the baby you hold in your arms this week is not the same one you fell in love with last week. “Take pictures!” they say “They grow so fast.” Great advice, yes, but incomplete. They don’t tell you that the baby in those pictures is a different person, one you will want to remember, one in a blink you will never see again, one that yes, you will mourn. Sure every morning your baby is lying in the place where you left him, but he is different, every time you wake him. Every morning, he is new.

So I think some people have another child to get to meet a baby like that again. They want to hold their child 1 week, 1 month, 1 year old again. They want to fall in love again with their baby, knowing now that as soon as they do they will have to mourn him and replace that love with what he has become.

Goodbye my newborn. Goodbye my one month old son. Goodbye my tiny scrawny little baby.

I loved you.

A Perfect Evening

admin August 22nd, 2008

I made a wonderful dinner. I had a drink. I watched a movie with my husband. I danced with my son. We had a wonderful time. The three of us. Three.

Twenty years ago Friday nights were spent with a couple of friends, chasing away the daylight, running, chasing, laughing. Ten years ago my Friday nights were spent with my closest friends, playing pool, driving around, laughing. Five years ago my Friday nights were spent partying with new friends, dancing, meeting new guys, laughing. What memories I have, of these nights.

Tonight I spent at home with my new family. Laughing.

I will have more crazy nights. I’m not ready to give them up. But tonight was plain, and I went nowhere, and and it was perfect.

This is why I did this thing. This night. May you all have nights like these.

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