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10:47 p.m. - 2015-11-10
I tell my kids when I am tucking them in, " You know, if I could pick any kid in the world to be my kid, I would pick you. When I see all the kids in the street coming home from school, and you run to me, I feel like the luckiest person in the world. The best thing that has ever happened to me in life is that I get to be your mom."

I don't tell them that every day -- maybe once a week. Cashy asked me tonite, "What of I wasn't alive anymore?"

I said,"That would be very sad." I didn't know what to say. But the sense I got was that he wanted to know that he would be missed, not that he really conceives of death.

I am afraid that I fuck it all up. I am afraid that they think my happiness is contingent on their behavior, and conversely that if I die tomorrow they won't know how loved they are. I try to tell them till I know they hear me and not to the point of drowning saturation.

I am probably not a good person to be a mom. I do volunteer for field trips, but I study too much and work too much and sleep to little. I lose baby weight too fast to qualify as human, or so I have been told. I hope someone tells them if I get run over by a truck that I was human and I loved them.



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