Babies Don't Keep

I just had the most wonderful morning with Daphne.  I didn't even look at my list of to-dos.  Instead I spent my time walking outside, hand-in-hand, with a two-year old.  Watching and listening to her point out a bird on a branch or an airplane high in the distance, and mimicking their sounds with her cute little impressions.  We jumped on the trampoline together, swung on the swings, pulled the tether-ball on its string around the yard, played house in the playhouse, took a walk around the neighborhood observing which trees had leaves or not, waved to passing cars, and ate lunch outside on this unusually sunny January day.  

I too often forget to take moments like these, instead of worrying about accomplishing all the things on my big to-do list.  I need to resist the temptation to feel that I've only accomplished something if there is a tangible result.  I am happy with today's intangible results: giggles, smiles, and sweet memories.  As I realized this when I was putting Daphne down for her nap, the words of a poem that I remember hearing my mom recite came to mind:

  

    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.

    - Ruth Hulbert Hamilton