My son is 6-years-old, but I still fold him into a cradled position in my lap so I can rock him and smother him with kisses. Me, remembering his tiny body and sweet smell when he naturally rested in my arms this way as a baby; him, giggling hysterically, insisting he’s not a baby. I try to do the same thing with my 2-year-old daughter, but she just…
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