We also made edible play dough or "day dough" as Lilly calls it. In addition to that, we played games and laughed a lot. Yes, it was a great day...and I can see it by looking at my messy house. I was too busy playing with my girls and didn't have time to clean. I love days like today.
Someone sent this to me a while back and I really enjoy reading 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 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. Babies don't keep.
~~Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
6 comments:
What a fun day! I love the poem. Thanks for sharing. I will let you know about the party on Saturday. Thanks for inviting us!
thanks for the visit.
I can't imagine girls......I suspect the heart attacks start later around dating time. With boys.....OY! I am a SUPER careful, safety minded person......I'm sure I was sent a boy to teach me a few things.
thanks for stopping by my blog and introducing yourself :)
love that poem...it is SO SO true. children do not "keep"! they grow much too quickly.
You put me to shame! You are a very creative mommy!
Angie,
When we lived in Hillsboro, our closet was a big, walk-in closet that we used as a dressing area. Over a little chest of drawers, I had a wooden plaque with the following poem on it. I kept it there and read it every day to remind me of what was important. I wanted it to be a reminder of how I did not want to be in the future! Even though I am, as John says, a "neat freak," I do recognize and value what's really important. I admire in you your ability to know what's important--your family.
Here's the poem. I found it on the internet, and I'm going to look for the plaque.
My Son Grows Up
My hands were busy through the day,
I didn't have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
But when you'd bring your teddy bear
and ask me please to share your fun,
I'd say: "A little later, son."
I'd tuck you in all safe at night
And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
Then tiptoe softly to the door ...
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.
For life is short, the years rush past ...
A little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.
The teddy bears are put away,
There are no longer games to play,
No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear ...
That all belongs to yesteryear..
My hands once busy, now are still.
The days are long and hard to fill.
I wish I could go back and do
The little things you asked me to.
Hi Angie,
I love the poem, but why I wonder it is for a fifth child? It applies starting with child #1 (grin).
Post a Comment