My liquefied brain is leaking out my nipples.This is the only reasonable explanation for how I feel postpartum.I'm breastfeeding the newborn on the couch as my 3-year-old rips through the living room screaming "Chaos!Chaos!Chaos!" - a war cry she refashioned from my protestations.She shreds magazines and scatters the detritus as my husband, father to these two tiny humans, unloads the dishwasher.
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