I have been trying to clean up my kitchen literally for THREE days. I get so far, and then it’s a meal time. That lands me right back where I started. It feels like I spent 72 hours touching Damara - either holding her or cuddling her in bed. For some reason today she’s napped well, and is happy to be put down for a bit at a time. I believe God designed babies to demand touch - it’s so essential to their developement. It would be easy to ignore them for “more important things” if they didn’t cry for our attention. It is tiring, but I’m glad to be able to hold my baby and give her what she legitimately needs. And when I can sneak a break in when I’m feeling overwhelmed by the level of her needs (like yesterday, when we all piled in the van, and Greg took the crew with him on his afternoon runs, while Cole and I did some window shopping and walking up-town F’ton), just a bit of time is all I need to regroup, and be prepared to continue meeting them. So for the first time in DAYS, my kitchen is clean, and that includes my dining room. Ha, ha…as I speak, the little lamb popped her eyes open and turned to look at me. Seems she knew I was writing about her. And now, I must go cuddle.