"Babies Don't Keep"

Mother, of 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, rockabye, 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.

-- Author Unknown

"A Mother's work is never done." True indeed. All the loving Mothers that I have ever known have at some point grappled with walking the fine line between balancing household responsibilities and spending quality time with her children. I am not advocating irresponsibility and a filthy house, but I have never heard an older Mother or GrandMother say that she wished she would have spent more time cleaning her house whenever her children were younger. On the other hand, one-hundred percent of the time I hear the Mother say that she wished she would have spent more time with her children whenever they were younger. Unfortunately, too many Mothers learn this foundational lesson later in life, if they ever learn it at all.

This poem is for my wife and all Mothers who are enjoying the time you do have with your sweet babies and wish you had even more time with them. Remember, as you have heard a thousand-and-one times, "Enjoy 'em while they're young because they grow up fast."