Today, I won’t be blogging, I won’t be cleaning, I won’t be doing anything, except spending time with my kids. This poem explains it all. Hope you have a great day “rocking your babies.”
Song For a Fith Child, by Ruth Hamilton. 1958
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.
Yes, this. Exactly this.
(Enjoy!)
Galit Breen Most Recent Post…The Big Gay Race
Isn’t this such a great poem?! I love it! My mom says it to me all the time whenever I start stressing out about the house going to the pits.
Hope you had a great weekend & that y’all have a great start to the week!