Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with wooden blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes
And other stuff that children lose,

Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last week's mail to read
So where's the quiet time I need?

Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see then, in my small one's face,

That you have blessed me all the while
And I stoop to kiss that precious smile.

author unknown to me