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What Really Matters?
By Kitty | January 7, 2012
I saw this poem posted on a friend’s facebook page and just had to share. I think it’s so true, yet oft forgotten. This is just another reminder to stick with my “resolution” for 2012 and be gentle with myself. Enjoy!
What Did You Do Today?
Today I left some dishes dirty,
The bed got made around 3:30.
The diapers soaked a little longer,
… The odor grew a little stronger.
The crumbs I spilled the day before,
Are staring at me from the floor.
The fingerprints there on the wall,
Will likely be there still next fall.
The dirty streaks on those window panes,
Will still be there next time it rains.
Shame on you, you sit and say,
Just what did you do today?
I nursed a baby till he slept,
I held a toddler while he wept,
I played a game of hide and seek,
I squeezed a toy so it would squeak.
I pulled a wagon, sang a song,
Taught a child right from wrong.
What did I do this whole day through?
Not much that shows, I guess it’s true.
Unless you think that what I’ve done,
Might be important to someone,
With bright brown eyes and soft blond hair,
If that is true … I’ve done my share.
Author Unknown
Topics: Mommyhood | 2 Comments »
January 8th, 2012 at 12:13 pm
I love that poem!!!!
One evening when Sagan was still just a couple of weeks old, I told Ryan, “The only thing I accomplished today was make XXX milliliters of milk.” He failed to perceive me as a slacker and reminded me how important that type of productivity was. : )
Our midwife had a similiar poem by Ruth Hulbert Hamilton on display in her office. I grabbed the words from http://www.drmomma.org/2011/08/babies-dont-keep.html
-=-=-=-
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.
-=-=-=-
January 8th, 2012 at 3:22 pm
GREAT poem–thank you for sharing! Babies really don’t keep. Mine is already walking and talking–blows my mind! Rock on for supportive dads and husbands. Thankfully, Garrett is like Ryan and supports momma productivity, no matter how menial it seems to me. Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow. InDEED!