Babies don't keep...

today I had a realization as a mother. As I was trying to get all my stuff done around the house, I was running around thinking of all the things I had to do and I was so thankful that Arianna was sitting peacefully coloring. I was just about to go and clean the bathrooms when Arianna proudly called out "look momma, my picture is booful!" without even looking I said, "yup babe, it's pretty" and I went on my way. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks and thought to myself, my daughter was just snubbed by her own mother! I turned to look at her concentrating on her sweet picture and I dropped everything in my hands, went and sat by her. She looked at me with her big blue eyes and said, "momma, I lub you, kiss!" (in Arianna language, I love you and I want a kiss). If I had kept doing what I was doing, I would have missed this sweet moment with my baby girl. Clean bathrooms aren't worth it to me...I would have missed out on this...

so, today I leave you with this poem that I read off another blog. There is nothing more rewarding than being a mom...especially when we take the time to enjoy it.

Song for a Fifth Child

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.

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton