It’s 5:30 a.m. He’s getting dressed. All 3 feet of him. “Mommy, beg-ows!” he chants, in his high-pitched sing song two year-old voice. I can’t resist him. His blonde curly locks cascading behind his baby-soft little neck, perfect for tickling, kissing, and pulling a bib around at mealtime.This boy is a bagel eating machine. Doesn’t… 

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