Happy birthday to the woman who has taught me so much about how to be a Mom.

She had this poem hanging in our rooms when we were litte.  This is what she lived by, and continues to live by in regards to her grandchildren:

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.