Linger

Yesterday had one of those rare moments where I deliberately slow down and try to savor babyhood. Not that I don't enjoy my kids; I do. It's just that as a homeschool mom of 4 kids age 7 and under, I don't get a whole lot of time to just lie with my babies. Correction: I get no such time. At her afternoon nap time, I tend to either lie down with Baby K (22 months old) for as briefly as I can get by with, nurse her on both sides, then wave night-night so I can go get more school done, or worse--I send my 6-year-old or my 7-year-old to go put her in bed and tuck her in (then I can get by without nursing her; I don't mind nursing her but it's just time consuming).

But yesterday, for some reason, I laid Baby K down in my comfy, king size bed, as opposed to the twin bed with rails where I usually lay her for nap. I nursed her and she had her sweet little arms wrapped around my neck, playing with my hair. Her eyes started drooping. Her warm little body cuddled up to mine in a reverse spoon, her legs tucked against my thighs, her tummy to my tummy. Her little legs are still so squooshy like fresh marshmallows. She felt so wonderful that I decided to stay. I remembered all those admonishments you hear to let the housework go and enjoy the babies. In theory, Baby K is "supposed" to be our last baby (as have been our last *3* babies). But maybe this time, this baby really will be our last baby. I had better treasure this time.

I'm proud of myself for staying with her, and telling the big girls to read a book while Mommy lies down with K. I know I did the right thing. It took a lot of effort to quiet my Type A, racing mind and quell the guilt for what I "should" have been doing. Baby K and I enjoyed an hour-long nap together. I don't know how many more of these I will be blessed to experience.


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.



P.S. Yes, she's sleeping with her shoes on. She won't let us take them off her until she's in a very deep sleep. If we try to remove her shoes at nap time or bedtime, she cries brokenheartedly. It's not a big deal to us whether she has shoes on at bedtime, so we let her go to sleep with them on. Priorities.