Author Unknown

I've been asked what I meant by the title of an earlier post, "Little boys don't keep." Somewhere in my foggy memory, I recalled a poem that talks about the many choices mothers face everyday. When I sat down to write the post in question and thought about how I had chosen to spend my time that day, I remembered the last line of the poem reads "babies don't keep." I thought that in light of my day with lil' J, borrowing from the last line and adapting it would make an appropriate title for the post.

For those interested, below is the poem that inspired the title to my previous post.

Babies Don't Keep

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, peek-a-boo).

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!

~Author Unknown ~