Gasp! I didn't clean the whole house today!

Have you heard this poem?

Song for a Fifth Child

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.


by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Today, instead of giving the house its weekly Silkwood shower*, I rescued Jack who was crying in his crib (he's been having a hard time going down for naps for the past couple of weeks-- we usually leave him alone and he quiets downs in 10 minutes or so, but today he seemed sadder than usual), and laid down with him in my bed. He was really excited to nap with me-- he brought his own Buzz Lightyear blankie and was asleep within 30 seconds of hitting my pillow. He smiled at me, patted my cheek, sighed, and closed his eyes. I might have drooled on him a little in my sleep.

Remind me when I am bitching about washing the floor tomorrow that I really enjoyed myself.




*I couldn't resist spending a blissful 40 minutes scrubbing the shower. I also did the bathrooms, washed the inside and outside of the fridge including all the magnets and Leap Frog sets on the front of it, and removed and scrubbed all the oven knobs and childproof covers. I couldn't help myself.