Babies Don't Keep

I will admit it; I am not the best housekeeper. I used to be much better, and I totally assumed now that I am home with Josie that I would become even better. Not so. Don't get the wrong idea, our house isn't filthy or anything, but it could be cleaner. I often worry Danny will come home and wonder what I did all day (though he has never once said anything like that). The fact is, when she's asleep I try to get things done... showering and getting myself ready, dishes, making the bed, checking email, folding laundry, planning the grocery trip, etc. Then when she's awake, if she doesn't need anything (like a bottle, a clean diaper, a new outfit, a bath, her nails cut, etc.) then I want to spend time with her. She is more and more interactive all the time, and I really want to witness all the stuff she does every day rather than sit her in the bouncy seat with a toy and go in the other room to mop the floors. I think about this a lot and struggle with what I want to do (play with Josie) and what I need to do (dust). Then last night I came across this poem:

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,

Lullaby, rockabye, lullaby loo.

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due,

Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peek-a-boo.

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, rockabye, lullaby 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 Hulbert Hamilton