I had mentioned to some friends that I'm really not that great about decorating and dressing up my home with the seasons. My friend, Abby, who has successfully raised three children, sent me this poem:
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait for tomorrow,
For babies grow up, 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
Thanks, Abby! You're a breath of fresh air to this mommy!