I hope my children will look back on today
And see a mother who had time to play.
There will be years for cleaning and cooking
But children grow up while we’re not looking.
Dusting and scrubbing can wait ’till tomorrow
For babies grow fast we learn to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
Adapted from a poem by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
I could have a more organized home with everything in it’s place, the dishes cleaned and the laundry all done. Or I could snuggle with my baby asleep in my arms as we rock in the glider listening to the rain fall outside the window. Which would you choose?