Sometimes Words Aren't Necessary
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When Jayde-Rhiannon was a baby, I often reminded Chris not to become too comfortable in her stages. Knowing as soon as we did, she would indeed move on to the next phase. Years later, I have forgotten my own advice. It is evident to me that I have become accustomed to her new normal. It is 3:45 a.m., and there is a brief lull; it deceives me into believing the worst is over. A year ago , I would have known better. I quickly reach for the Clorox spray and paper towels. By 4:05, her bathroom is clean. I am ready for bed. The sound of her in my bathroom makes it abundantly clear that I am out of practice. There was a time I could sense our all-nighters before they occurred. I do not miss that sixth sense. However, I miss my vibrant redhead, with her sparkling blue eyes, which did not contain a care in the world. She throws off her hoodie; her once chilled frame is now dripping. Her long hair is pulled back, cascading over her shoulders. She is curled up in front of the toilet. In the mid