that's my philosophy

There is dust in every corner of our home and our table is full of clutter. The shower must be cleaned and there are clothes to be hung. I need to run to the post office and make a quick stop at Target.

These thoughts casually pass through my mind as I hold my peaceful baby, kissing his chubby cheeks. I keep ignoring them. My son will only be a baby for so long. If I could bottle this up and save it forever, I would. In a heartbeat.

Instead, I sit and bask in these moments,







remembering the things that actually matter.




This is a great little poem that someone gave me while I was 9 months pregnant.


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,

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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?

Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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