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I used to babysit in high school all the time: school nights, weekends, infants, toddlers, prepubescents. I was good, people liked me, I earned my own spending money.

In a weird way, I miss it. I miss the fuzziness of focusing on infants at 1:00 a.m. I miss the silence, the control over nighttime. I miss the thinking time. As often as I hang out at my sister's place, and as close as I am with her daughters, I've missed out on the late night childcare with them. Not tonight, though, tonight I went to babysit my niece Hannah. She's about 7 weeks old.

There is nothing like holding a baby in your arms when they sleep.

She was crying, so I went to fetch a bottle for her and as I was preparing it, she relaxed and conked out on me. I sat on the couch gently, and breathed her in. It was restful, warm, happy. She smelled like silky skin and baby's milk and soft cotton and I fell asleep with her on my chest and the two of us blissful on the couch.

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