When we are all eating dinner
And chatting about our days
I know that you are here,
but there is a split second when all is quiet,
and I get up to get a drink
and cast a glance at all the baby paraphernalia
that is again scattered across the living room
that it hits me.
I see you sleeping so peacefully and so quietly that I feel a pang of guilt.
Because I forgot you were there.
And then I smile and secretly thank the heavens,
that I was able to eat a meal in its entirety.
One day too soon you will be all grown up.
You will be sitting at that table with us.
It will be noisy.
It will be impossible to get a moments peace.
Or get a word in edge wise.
And I will love it.