babies
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At three in the morning, two wide-awake babies and one exhausted mother prove that motherhood does not care what the clock says.
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Two babies somehow create enough laundry for a village, leaving one tired mother at the base of a mountain made entirely of tiny clothes.
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At 12:10 p.m., one sleepy child opens her eyes and morning finally begins on her own stubborn schedule.
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Sick or not, motherhood still wakes with bottles, dishes, dogs, medicine, and the quiet strength of doing the next thing.
Between Bruises & Blooms 