Lately

I don't know what's been up with me lately... well actually I do.  It's the raging pregnancy hormones.  They are making me a big ole sentimental weepy mess.  I have so many emotions about having another baby and how these are the last weeks as a family of three.  I catch myself at times feeling guilty for not spending enough time with Zoey and wondering how she will handle the transition (even though I know she will never remember life without her sibling).  Basically, mommy guilt has settled back in and I'm oozing tears left and right.

Despite all the guilt though, there is one thing I don't feel a lick of guilt over.  And, this is it...

Do you see that?

That precious, beautiful, spunky, sleeping beauty?  I can not get enough of her.  Even after nearly two years I still love watching her sleep (... and snapping borderline creeper webcam pictures of her).  Does this ever get old?  I have people all the time ask me... you still let her nap in your bed? You still rock her to sleep for naps?  You genuinely look forward to her waking at 2 a.m. and wanting to crawl in bed with you?

Why yes, yes I do.  Because I won't get to forever.  And for now, she lets me.  And for now, she doesn't get totally creeped out when she awakes to her mommy inches away from her face, smelling her stinky PBJ breath and smiling.  Because at 14, that would be grounds for therapy.  And, frankly because I can.   And, because I never want her to stop saying "Mommy, hold you" when she wants to be held.

I hope I will always soak up these moments... even when the hormones level back out. ;)  But for now, I'm going to just let the hormones and mood swings slide, say a prayer for Jerrod's sanity and get in as many snuggles as I can because "babies do not keep..."

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,

Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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?

Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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.

~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton