My sister just emailed me this poem. My mom had the last stanza of this poem in a framed needlework in our hallway growing up. I've often thought of it during these years with young children, and enjoyed reading the entire poem. It was a timely reminder of how fast these little ones grow up and how short our time is with them. It's easy to think of the "stuff" of life and how much we have to do and there never seems to be enough time. But these little lives that God has so graciously allowed us to be a major part of? There is so much to do - so much to teach them about our wonderful God and who He is - and so little precious time! 
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, peek-a-boo).
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.
-- Author Unknown
12 years ago
