Quarter-end crunch
and you’re working round the clock
like a donkey round the threshing mill–
sacrifice in each step.
Working like your dad,
but long hours away instead of long weeks at camp.
At home,
we celebrate our eldest daughter’s 12th birthday–
a dozen years of parenthood–
building a life together bit by bit.

I think of the early days of motherhood,
pregnancy and giving birth for the first time,
and those inexpressibly precious baby snuggles.
Remembering I rejoice
and celebrate having made it thus far.
The day, says my classy and clever friend Laura,
calls for champagne.
And although it takes two,
often moms get all the credit
for building their children’s bodies,
knitting them together in their wombs.
But

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