Babies Don't Keep

A big Thank you to Leslie over at A Room Somewhere for sharing this poem on her guest spot today.

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, 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, 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.

I've tried really hard not to feel guilty for the messy house, dirty dishes and pile of to-do lists. I've come to realize how fast these precious moments go by and I just want to enjoy my children. I've been lucky enough to have some great advice from mom's. Twenty years from now I won't care what my house looked like or if there were dishes that were dirty. I will remember the moments with my children. I don't know anybody that has grown children that wishes they wouldn't have held them as much as they did. So for now I'm letting the cobwebs stay and the dishes sit while I take these moments to enjoy these beautiful people I've been blessed with.