The Second

It's all so temporary.
Already we measure his age in weeks instead of days.
Already he wakes only once in the night.
Pretty soon he'll be too big for newborn diapers.
Pretty soon he won't fit in the bassinette.
It's all so temporary.
One night we go out for dinner for the first time, hire a sitter. I
don't worry, I don't feel guilty, but oh!, how I miss him!
We won't introduce cereal at six weeks; there is nothing I need to prove.
I have perspective now; this is only temporary; when anyone asks, "How
will you be able to be a mother and still accomplish all the Things
You Want In Life?" I can only laugh.
This is only temporary, only an interlude.
Already I feel the nostalgia.