Dear Jack,
You are, right now, asleep in your very own crib.
Not the pack and play.
Not my bed.
Not my arms.
In your crib.
For the first time ever.
Sigh.
What's that I see? Is it a light? At the end of a very long, very rewarding tunnel?
I think maybe it is.
Love,
Mom
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And yet, I have a feeling you are already missing being in part of that tunnel.
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