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It's a worthy labour of love

It is my baby's birthday today (April 26), the youngest of my brood; four daughters who are no longer babies at all but instead are full-fledged adults, living lives in which I am an accessory, no longer a necessity.

I can't pull them on to my lap and kiss away their tears when they are hurt. I can't speak up for them and be their shield when others would do them harm. I can't go along with them to interviews and proclaim their unsurpassed value, and how bloody lucky any employer would be to have them (mother bias aside).

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