Dust in the nursery The following is by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton and was published in the Lady’s Home Journal in 1958 as “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 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).
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 babies and babies don’t keep.
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This is so true. I need this posted on my wall for days when I worry about the "house work". My sweet babies won't remember the way the house looked, they'll just remember I said "I'd love to" and "Yes, lets go" when they wanted to play instead of "not right now" or "in a minute". (Can you tell my babies are growing too fast? It seems to be sinking in a lot lately)!