updated the blog much
packed enough boxes for the upcoming move
cleaned out our closet
washed the car
unpacked the diaper bag
written all of the letters on my to-do list
frozen enough dinners for when I go back to work
But I have...
read book after book after book after book
enjoyed several tea parties
gone swimming to practice "scoops & kicks" with a little girl who wants to swim on her own
colored pictures to memorize Gal. 5:22
crept around the corner to watch an imagination at work
taken notes of conversations we've had
gone on dates with my husband
made dinner for my husband and daughter
kept the house cleaner than when I'm working
scheduled play dates for Pink
felt a baby move
endured a few zerbert sessions from daddy & Pink for the new baby
gone on walks (fewer than I wanted to, but oh well)
stolen many, many kisses in the middle of the day, just because
given timeouts and spankings
dried tears
tucked in for each and every nap
styled hair with barrettes and bows
played dress-up
taken naps
All in all, it was quite a vacation. Not productive in the sense of my to-do list, but my heart is certainly better off for it. When I drop her off early tomorrow morning, I'll do it knowing that I took advantage of our 5 weeks together. I loved being her full-time mom.
And it reminds me of a poem that I found before I had Pink that has kept me going in the midst of a busy work schedule, loads of unfolded laundry, dishes in the sink, social engagements I can't attend, etc, etc, etc. I'm sure you've seen a version of it before, but it bears repeating often.
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“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 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 her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will 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.
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
(first appeared, Ladies Home Journal, October 1958)
2 comments:
Oh Jen. Thanks for reminding me that life goes so quickly.. and it's okay to let everything pile up once in a while.. so I can enjoy my kids now. I will soon turn around and they will all be grown.. and I will wish I had those years back.
I love it! My post yesterday was similar and I hadn't even read yours yet! Sounds like you got all the important stuff done. :) And I know that poem, (I made up a tune and used to sing it to both the babies- still do...) but I didn't know the title- it's perfect.
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