the rambles of a family of five in Australia

Quiet down, cobwebs.

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So… somehow it is December and we are in the throes of Christmas preparation, but according to the blog, little Miss S has only just turned two and we are heading into winter.

What can I say? It turns out that I am not a very good blogger, and that keeping some of my plates spinning at home means dropping all of my internet related ones.

So be it, I guess.

I came across the poem below very recently, and although I don’t have five children, it resonated with me.
Many people can do lots of things well, I can’t. But I do want to spend as much ‘best’ time with my three littles as I can. They are fast becoming bigs, and I want to soak them in, drink them up and shower them with love, compassion, fun and joy.

So here’s to me remembering (and making time) to record some more of their lives here, and not to beating myself up if it’s a while between posts!

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.

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