I saw this on Malinda's blog and thought it so sweet and appropriate as I am having baby #5 and I think the poem contains a description of the state of my house...
Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
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.
Today was such a tough day with Sam but tomorrow I will try harder to remember that babies don't keep (even babies who hit you in the head with brooms--on purpose!!)
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2 comments:
Oh man Annie! You poor thing! Just think...in a few months you will be all settled in Oregon and things will be better. I feel for ya! Is there anything I can do to help?
I don't know if it is the hormones, or if I am just a huge wienie. When I read this on Malinda's blog I started to cry and now reading it again it has affected me the same way. Those last two lines really hit it home. That has become my mantra since I first read this poem. And I am constantly reminding myself that my babies don't keep. It's so surreal that I am on #4 and the days when my big boy Tobie was my adorable baby seem so far away. Oh boy, here come the water works!
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