True Words

Song For a Fifth Child

Ruth 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, 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, rockabye, 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.

Aren't these words beautiful? 

They ring true to me.

If you dropped by our house on any given day, you would probably find it a mess.

But it's a good mess, because there's a little someone living in it. Really living in it.

And, to be perfectly honest, bubble blowing and popping, puppet shows in the afternoon, sliding down slides, reading and re-reading favorite books, taking walks, clanging pots and pans, sharing peaches, and rocking to sleep are worth every dusty bookshelf, dirty dish, unvacuumed rug, and unwashed sheet.

So worth it.

Because, my girl is growing so fast.

Faster than my heart can take it sometimes.

And, I don't want to miss a moment.