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We got back from California almost two weeks ago now. Every time we go, it feels more and more like going home. Something about the hills rising up out of the earth, crumpled and creased and golden. The highways, wide and flat and sinuous. The ocean, beating against the sand.

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Going away was good for us. For me. I feel like I’m finally starting to settle into life with the baby. Sure, everybody said that life would change, but I didn’t think it would be that different. Call me naïve, but I thought I would finally have time to get things done. As anyone reading this who has had a kid knows, that didn’t happen.

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The reality is that her favorite place to nap is on me, or her dad. That even though she can’t speak, she has plenty of ways of getting across what she wants. And what she wants is to be right where I am.

So I blog with my phone while she’s nursing. I read books with one hand while walking around holding her with the other.  But mostly, I accept that the to do list is limited to one item per day.

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And some days, I’m even okay with that.