Song for a Fifth Child
- by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
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.
It's taken me several babies to really get this, but it's so, so true. Maybe it took this author until her fifth baby to really get it, too! I don't know for sure, but I think it's the perspective that comes along with having a few older children that finally makes it all click in a mother's mind. The days of babyhood really do fly by and, before you know it, you're happy just to have those fleeting moments of quick kisses and rushed hugs as your bigger kids dash out the back door. For now though, I'm relishing in my sweet-smelling baby who wants nothing more than to be asleep in my arms (and yes, still thankful that he's also willing to sleep elsewhere when these arms are needed by another sibling! And thankful for good baby carriers when he's not...).
