I saw part of this in a friend's facebook status the other day and I've been thinking about it ever since, so I went to find the whole poem. As all moms know, the days of sweet cuddling with your baby don't last forever, and you miss them when they're gone. But many are the days where you don't cherish those moments because of chores, errands, work, and all the other things we try to cram into our days. So now, as Lucy is in a phase of wanting to be held a lot, and needing a little more cuddling to get to sleep at nap time, I'm reminding myself that this time will never come again, and the chores will still be there whenever I get to them.
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.
-Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
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