Babies Don't Keep

I have exactly nine days left until I go back to work. Nine more short days where my only task is to be a mother to my baby girl. In nine days, I have to give over at least 40 hours a week of her life over to another person's care. I may have the opportunity to do some work from home, but even then, I will be distracted from caring for her. So, for the next nine days, this is my mantra:

Babies Don't Keep

Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

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 her eyes the most wonderful hue?

Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait 'till tomorrow

But children grow up, as I've learned from my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs! Dust, go to sleep!

I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.