Wednesday, February 29, 2012


I LOVE this poem, so I wanted to share it with you... I wish I could be more like the mummy in the poem, as calm as her, as blissful and not stressed by the two-hour chore of getting baby to sleep whilst the other 2 are downstairs fighting, screaming and wrecking the house.. I wish I had more quality time with my baby, as that's what he's screaming for. In the absence of loving every moment as my baby screams rather than drifts to sleep, and I comfort and feed him to help him enter the land of nod, I'll just keep re-reading this poem again and again to bring some of its lovely energy upon me and my baby...

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,
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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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

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