My precious babies

I look at your sister and I think of you.
I cry a little (just a tear or two)...

I gaze on her face as she drinks from my breast
And smile as she snuggles to sleep on my chest

I nuzzle her forehead, kiss her with care
And drink in that 'newborn smell' from her hair

I rock her to sleep in the still of the night
She fits in the crook of my arm, just right.

I wonder what she will grow up to be?
Will she look like big sister or daddy or me?

And I cry a little, just a tear or two,
Because I couldn't do any of these things for you.

Parenting for programmers

Link up to my husband's blog and his latest post on the parallels between parenting and programming