Babies Don't Keep...

I didn't even realize it until tonight that it is Shaelyn Jade's 8 month birthday today...but I guess it was appropriate that I had my first "mommy meltdown" earlier today. Our new thing this week is mimicking each other. She makes a silly noise, like blowing bubbles, and I do it back...so she repeats it. Then I will make a different noise and she will do it after me. She is getting so smart! :) Anyways, today in the nursery I looked into her big brown eyes and said, "Can you say BA BA BA BA???"...She smiled so proudly and just belted the exact tones back to me..." And I am not exactly sure why, but that sweet babbled phrase just sorta hit me in the gut and I realized, in an instant, that my little baby will grow up someday...and I cannot hold her in my arms forever. One second later I found myself in a heap of tears, holding her as close as I could, pleading her to stay just like she is today, forever... telling her that these past 8 months have been the best days of my life, so far... and she has brought me a lifetime of joy already! She just babbled on and on to me with that smile that steals my heart each day, like she perfectly understood every word I said...and I imagined that she was making a promise not to grow up! But when I put her into her PJs tonight, which she got for Christmas, and which are fitting "snug" already, I was reminded, again, that "babies don't keep". Alas, my little weed will keep growing, no matter how many tears I cry, so I will just try to capture all these memories forever. As Shakespeare so aptly said, "Tis in my memory locked, and you yourself shall keep the key of it...", my Shaelyn Jade.

I found the following poem a little while back, and it is perfect for this day. As I "busy" through each day with my "to-do list", I pray, Dear Lord, that I will have wisdom to slow down and just hold my precious baby girl.

Song For A Fifth Child

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 her 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.


~Ruth Hulburt Hamilton (1958)