So very proud of the eight year old this evening. Her father is being a douche about parenting time - he only wants to see her, not her brother. She told him in no uncertain terms this evening that she wanted her brother to come too. And it all came from her. I've been very careful to keep my own anger about it under wraps. So proud of my baby 
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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