Of milk and diapers. And more milk. And more diapers.
Of sweet baby cuddles and growth spurts too soon.
Of bright baby eyes, sweet-smelling hair, and cutesy outfits.
These are the days of a newborn.
These are the days of overgrown lawns and weedy flowerbeds.
Of dirty windows and sewing piled high.
Of the rocking chair becoming the most-used belonging in the house after years of sitting quietly in the corner.
These are the days of priorities changing without warning.
These are the days of Ross working double-duty covering all my farm work, trucking besides, and hurrying home to hold his precious little Elle.
Of sleepless nights.. of crying spells..
Of speedy meals, and quick showers.
These are the days of survival.. but we wouldn’t trade them for anything in the whole world.
These are the days.