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Thursday, October 4, 2012

Why I broke the rules

With my first two children I never got them out of bed while they were sleeping.  I never missed nap time, I never handed them my keys as a play toy.  I followed the list of suggested foods and times to give them.  I went by every rule in the book.  I can think of one or two times I let Noah fall asleep on my chest.  I did not want to ruin him, so I did not do it often.
 
Now here comes Micah.
Now granted I am in a much more mentally healthy place this time around.  But I don't have this check list of rules anymore.  Its so totally freeing. 
 
He had BBQ last night. (It was shredded & I watched him the whole time)  There have been a few times where I did not have a baby toy on me, and you know what?  I handed him my keys.  The world did not end.  A key is not his preferred toy of preference, it passfied him do to my forgetfulness and we moved on.  Man I was hard on myself the first time around.
 
So last night, I was feeling sentimental.  Hes already 7 months old.  It was about 11:00 and I got him out of bed.  He was slightly confused.  I took him in my room and laid him on my chest.  And I just held him and listened to him breath.  He was so snugly.  Then Wes came and took him to bed.
 
 
Song for a Fifth Child
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

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 baby and babies don’t keep.
 

2 comments:

  1. Aww, I remember the end of that poem hanging in our nurseries as babies. So sweet! Almost....almost makes me want another. Almost.

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