Babies Don't Keep

Well here I am, on my new laptop (it's an hp mini...if you haven't seen one, google it...it's so small it looks like a toy and I am still amazed that it actually works), which I have thanks to my wonderful husband. Jack is in sleeping in his little chair (thank you Polly, you got us this for our baby shower). I can't believe how hard it is to put him down, even when he's sleeping and I know that he'll be fine (well, I constantly have to keep an eye on him as Twinkie stalks him when he's in his chair). Every single day I am even more amazed that this perfect little being came from me and Charles. He is the most amazing little thing ever. I love watching him when he sleeps and his little face goes through a huge range of emotions in his sleeps - he gets mad, he might cry out, he looks worried, he looks surprised and my favorite of all he smiles and almost even laughs.

On the one hand, I can't wait until he is smiling and laughing. On the other hand, it makes me sad to think of him growing up because I know this time will pass so quickly and I want to cherish every moment I have with Baby Jack before he is Toddler Jack, Kid Jack, Teenager Jack, and then Adult Jack. Right now he is MY Jack (well, he's also Charles'!) but I know he will become his own little person soon and I don't want to miss out on a moment! Of course I will also cherish every moment with him as he grows and I know that will be exciting too, but sometimes I feel like I see him going to college already and I know that will be here before I know it so I don't want to miss out on one second.

My mom sent me this poem (and it made me cry) and I made a promise to myself to live by this:

Babies Don’t Keep
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo

But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.