Rocking My Baby

In honor of Mother's Day.

Reposted note from February 18, 2011

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 Hulburt Hamilton

Cobwebs and dust are the least of my worries.  As my friend Mari witnessed yesterday, it was moon sand, spaghetti sauce and Science covering my table, and popcorn covering my floor, and a host of other toys and papers covering my counter.  But instead of spending the evening cleaning, I spent it dancing.  I danced in the kitchen with a most handsome and charming half naked young man.  I was enchanted by the sparkle in his eyes, captivated by his laugh, and highly entertained by his lack of dancing skills (though his are still better than mine).  Someday he will be too busy to dance with his mother.  I will have plenty of time to clean then.  And then, the memories that I will wish to remember will not be of my house, but of my child.  I know that my time was well spent...
  I was rocking my baby, and I will not care that my house was not neat first.