While he sleeps

Sometimes I hurry and scurry into the kitchen, and gobble food while loading the washer and rushing the washing up.

Sometimes I scrabble for a shower, and luxuriate in the temporary bliss of cleanliness before I am reanointed in dripping milk or baby posset.

While he sleeps, sometimes I tweet or reply to emails or try to catch up with blogging. Or spend a little time reading to Smallest or attempting to educate an older child.

While he sleeps I sometimes try to sleep as well, but I resent that weakness when there is so much else to do.

And sometimes when he sleeps, I hold him, and watch him. I savour each breath and cherish each moment. I wish there was a way to hold on to these feelings other than in words that cannot be but a surface capture, or in pictures that only catch an instant.

But words and pictures are all I have.