Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Him and Me

I have loved only two children at home the last week.
After putting Drew down for his afternoon nap, I begin the bribing with Joshua to "watch shows in my room" which is code for 'take a nap.'  (fruit roll-ups, a sucker, or a thing of smarties and a timer on the television in my room work mini miracles at our house.)

I've loved the few days that I have had a couple of hours all to myself.  It is certainly something new around here and I love every second of it.

Even if Joshua's naps cause him to stay up a little later at night.... Mike is home by then....

But, sometimes the fruit roll-ups, suckers, smarties and television timer only work mini-miracles.  Which means, once the timer turns off, Joshua sneaks up to where I am and with a big grin on his face, and arms open wide, declares, "I waked up!"

And after a slight sigh that my personal time only lasted thirty minutes, I can't help but smile at his deception,  his squinted eyes and big smile, and I pull him into my arms.

And even though I still have bills to pay, or a PTA email to send, or a lesson to prepare, or a toilet to clean, or weeds to pull, or a phone call to return, or laundry to switch, or I simply want to read a book of my choosing, I don't.

And whether we are reading 'The Gingerbread Cowboy' for the 3,451st time that day, or Joshua is eating his 737th popsicle for the day, while I sit on a chair and watch, I am reminded of this:

"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 have grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
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 baby and babies don't keep."
Ruth Hulbert Hamilton, 1958


Related Posts with Thumbnails