I wake up in the morning, as I'm getting ready I sit and listen...

He sits in his crib, talking his baby gibberish, happy as can be.  His mom walks in with a big happy hello like she hasn't seen him in days when its really only been a few hours.  He squeals with happiness.  I can see both of there smiles.  She gets his bath ready. As he splashes the water, she makes him laugh and talks to him in a sweet soft voice, asking him if he had good dreams and telling him how much she loves him.

I then leave for work.

I come home to an empty quiet apartment, put my keys on the counter hang my purse up, kick off my shoes and lay on the couch.

 I lay and listen...

They are now in the living room right above me.  The baby boy on the floor, the mother sitting next to him. He is such a happy boy squealing and playing with his toys. She starts singing fun little songs that makes him laugh and squeal some more. Making funny noises, bouncing up and down, playing peek-a-boo just to hear that squeal and little laugh.

I imagine its me and my son as I drift off to sleep.

I sit and watch mothers and there babies everywhere.  I imagine myself at the mall with my baby getting the cutest clothes, I imagine myself and Kyle at a restaurant eating out as a family. I read on blogs about the fun day a mom had with her child and even a bad day they had. I even read facebook comments on how much they are grateful for their children or how their child has learned this or done that for the first time or even how the mother didn't get any sleep the night before, I go through pictures and see how in love that child and mother are. I envy them.

I envy everything about being a mother, the fun, the good and even the bad days. And all I can do is listen and watch.

All I can do is keep telling myself, one day.