Written by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton and first published in The Ladies' Home Journal in the 1950's:
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 this 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
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.
|look at him so big!|
It's so true. I remember my tiny baby. He's still tiny to me but he's growing so fast. He has two teeth. He grabs a sippy cup and brings it to his mouth. He eats everything we do. He doesn't seem to like bananas too much, but yesterday, he ate a crabcake, a couple meatballs, chewed on some bread and a fry, tried some tilapia and yams. It seems like daily, there's something new about him and something old that he's let go.
I am so happy to see him growing, yet I wish I could hold on to his tinyness forever too.