Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye 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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But 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.
By: Ruth Hamilton
I have been seeing bits and pieces of this poem over the last few months on different blogs I read and on one friend's facebook status which prompted me to find it in its' entirety. I love it. This poem is a great reminder to me of what is really important during this time that I'm home with the boys. I know I will miss their perfect baby noses, squishy cheeks, and little voices someday and though there will always be dirty dishes, floors, and laundry to tend to there won't always be time to really spend with my little ones. Time is the one thing that always seems to slip away so quickly and can be very sneaky in doing so. Time can go by so fast and yet so slow, can feel dreadfully long while also frighteningly short, and is our enemy and yet our friend. It slowly marches forward...steadily, quietly, and consistently...changing our lives as it leaves its' mark. So, today, I will keep this "time theme" in the forefront of my mind. And when the boys wake up from their naps we will play on the floor together, read books, dance to music, and make a big old mess...and then I will cuddle with them (whether they like it or not)!
