Babies don't keep...

My house is covered in laundry... literally. There are towels, clothes, baby blankets and burp rags covering every inch of our bedroom floor and it is now spilling out into the hallway and even into the bathroom. 

Each day, I tell myself I will do a few loads after work but then I start playing with Jack and he smiles and giggles and I lose track of time.  I saw this poem the other day and, yes, some of the verses are kind of weird but I still like it... and I love the last verse...



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 Hulbert Hamilton

Rocking my baby when he was just a few hours old