Nine-year-old

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Dear Rowan, Nine. I will spare you the “How did that happen?” line of questioning because, frankly, it was the constant revolution of the earth around its axis, its continued orbit around the sun, that got us from there — 8 pounds and 12 ounces of you curled against my chest, me not able to feel my feet — to here, this morning, you easily 10 times that size and pressing snooze on your alarm before making your way downstairs to type in your forgotten homework on my computer. And also, frankly, the past nine years haven’t just flown by in the blink of an eye. . . .

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