No, I Do NOT Want to Share With You

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It was cold when I woke up at 4:00 am and reached for the blanket’s edge. I gave it a tug, but my sleeping husband rolled over and took the last available scrap with him, rolling up into a tight warm cocoon.
I went to the couch and got the red blanket that smells like kid feet and dog, and came back to bed and slept.
At 7:00, I was in the shower when the glass door opened and my naked 4-year-old stepped boldly into the warm water. “I decided to share with you, Mama,” she declared before muscling me into the lonely back corner

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I’m the 40-something-ish wife of my beloved Computer Guy.

I’m the adoring and incredibly proud mom of nine children…two saints…seven in training.

I’m my brothers’ sister and my parents’ daughter.

I’m a devout Catholic, an avid political junkie, able debater, aspiring home-maker, amazing friend, and I make the meanest Chicken Fried Steak you’ll ever have the pleasure of eating.

I’m a homeschooling guru, a writing addict, a sometimes public-speaker, and an advocate for staying true to the person God created you to be.

I can’t live in a house with white walls, sing Billy Joel songs while I wash the dishes, will read anything you put in my hands, and am completely obsessed with rhinestones and cute shoes.

I am just like moms the whole world over, and then some.

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