The family has been home since Tuesday, DTI (Due To Illness) and the house is rather a mess. I have not been the stellar mom that I strive to be, frantically trying to Catch Up, much to Sprout and Pip's chagrin. I may have been giving a second chance, as Major [downgraded: semi-Major] snowstorm has hit our region (hey, it is March 1st after all), and school is canceled for my wee ones. If I have off too, I Will Try Harder. I was reminded of this poem, Song for a Fifth Child from Ladies Home Journal, 1958:
Song for a Fifth Child.
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
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,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye 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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can 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 and babies don't keep.