Well, for the most part of the last five days, I've been holding Jackson. He's been something else since last Friday afternoon. He nursed about every 1 1/2 hours over Friday and Saturday (while I was supposed to be enjoying scrapbooking time with my neighbor---YEAH, RIGHT!). I have no idea what's gotten him so cranky, but all I can do is just hold and console and hope he feels better soon. And tonight as I talked to my mom about it, she reminded me of an excerpt from a poem by Ruth Hulbert Hamilton:
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow,
For babies grow up we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs,
Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby,
and babies don't keep.