This is a topic I revisit often, because I so often find myself needing to revisit it. Here it is for you again, too. Follow me on Facebook @ https://www.facebook.com/earlymorningmama
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I’ve spent a lot of time staring into the mirror lately. I’m aware of how vain that must sound, but middle age is hard on a girl. Maybe it’s the result of having three babies in four years. Or perhaps it has something to do with the twenty-seven total months of pregnancy that resulted in those babies, the three solid years of nursing said babies, or all the child-rearing, toddler-wrangling, middle-of-the-night-time-soothings and everyday-life-still-a-happening that went on in the meantime, but dang am I all worn out now.
With each passing year that pushes me deeper into my thirty-somethings, it is becoming increasingly more obvious that my body was better suited for youth. The boundless energy that I use to know has long since fizzled into a 9 o’clock bedtime (that’s for me, not the kiddos – God forbid). The natural brunette tresses that use to come, well… naturally, have started needing…
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