I stumbled across this poem the other day. I have read it before, as I am sure many of you have, but it seems so much more applicable now that I have a baby…
“Cooking and cleaning can wait ‘till tomorrow
for babies grow up, I have learned to my sorrow.
So cobwebs, be still now,
dust, go to sleep!!
I’m rocking my baby, and babies won’t keep.”
Enough to make me feel teary! (Or is that my hormones?)