I look down at the squirming bundle in my lap, take a deep breath, and summon, from the depths of my sleep-deprived soul, my best baby talk.

"Hi Aaal-lis-on," I say, in a lilting high-pitched voice. "Hello sweetheart. Are you the cutest baby in the whole world?"

Her lips form a circle and she bobs her head frantically from side to side, like a baby bird waiting for a worm.

"You're hungry aren't you? Do you want your ba-ba?" I say, answering my own question by sticking the nipple of the bottle into her open mouth.

It's a daily ritual with Allison and me, the 5:30 a.m. feeding. She is eating slowly today, sucking steadily and then dozing off, until I remind her how hungry she is by gently pulling on the bottle. She resumes sucking, murmuring contentedly, and my mind wanders.

I'm thinking of how much has changed, for mothers and babies and families, from my mother's generation to mine — and wondering how things will be different when my two daughters become mothers.

When my mother had me, there was not much formal support for parents. Three decades later, both the government and the private sector have taken steps to help parents succeed — through the Family Medical Leave Act, which guarantees most employees 12 weeks of unpaid leave after the birth or adoption of a child; through tax credits and child-care subsidies, flexible spending accounts and flexible work arrangements.

There are still important issues to address, however. Among them are the shortage of affordable, quality child care and the fact that many parents desperately want to fit more family time into their busy schedules.

My wish list for my daughters' generation includes higher pay and more training for child-care workers. I'd like to see more employers offer paid family sick leave and on-site day care. I'd love to see the government offer 12 weeks of paid maternity leave.

When my mother became a mother, babies were put to bed on their tummies. Only a few immunizations were required, and children did not have to wear bike helmets or even seat belts.

Today, we've got helmets and belts and booster seats. We've got immunizations for hepatitis and chicken pox and the flu. We've got insurance companies footing the bills for "well-baby" check-ups. And we've got new research on Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, which dictates that we must always put babies to sleep on their backs.

But are we healthier or safer?

We've got an epidemic of kids who are overweight or obese, hooked on Play Station or Nickelodeon, and dependent on medications for allergies or Attention Deficit Disorder.

We've got kids bringing guns to school and shooting their peers.

I fear there will be more violence in my daughters' parenting generation.

I hope we will not be at war when Allison has children, as we are now, and as we were when I was born. I fear she will pay the price for our war in Iraq — both financially and in ways I'm afraid to imagine: homeland security measures, terrorist threats and attacks.

Technology is both exciting and frightening. I hope it will lead to good things in the next generation — cures for fatal diseases, ways to protect the environment, safer vehicles.

I fear it will also lead to scary things — genetically engineered babies, more forms of cybercrime, more kids with health problems, as Americans become even more sedentary and the food conglomerates continue to market new candy bars, sugary cereals and fattening fast foods.

Allison is done eating now, but she's wide awake, silently staring at me with her deep blue eyes, as if she is analyzing every pore of my face.

"Time to go to sleep now, sweetie," I say, smiling both at her and the thought of catching another hour before Daughter No. 1 wakes me up.

All of a sudden, the corners of Allison's rosebud mouth curve upward and her eyes crinkle. I see a flash of white, the top gum. I forget about being tired.

And I realize that some parts of parenting haven't changed. Babies are still looking up at their mothers with the same wide, toothless smiles. And mothers are still falling in love.

Lisa Miller is a freelance writer who lives in Oneonta. She can be reached at lisamiller44@hotmail.com.