Shoved to Them
**It’s bad poetry day today at StT. See how I embarrass myself for your entertainment? You’re welcome!**
There are mountains of laundry this morning for me to wash, fold, and put away,
but my tiny girl is smiling at me. How can I help but stay?
The carpet is in need of vacuuming and floors which must be scrubbed,
but my little one loves her bath, and so we linger in the tub.
The sheets are rumpled and askew, the bed just begging to be made.
But my sweet girl is cooing, I must hear what she has to say.
The trash in the can is overflowing it must be dragged out to the curb today,
but the baby is making faces. How can I help but play?
There are bills which need paying and all kinds of things I’d planned,
but my tiny one is holding my thumb. How can I loosen her hand?
There are dishes which need washing and dinner to defrost,
but she right now is yawning and I don’t want this moment to be lost.
The bathrooms all need scrubbing. There is toothpaste every place,
but in my arms she’s dozing with a smile upon her face.
I’ve learned that babyhood is fleeting and then its sweet moments gone.
The house just must stay messy and a million things undone.
There is only one sweet thing which must be done today,
because tomorrow will be to late for me to mother her this way.
So here we sit, curled in this chair, my sweet small girl and me.
We have cuddling to do and lullabies to sing.
We have cooing at each other and grinning on our list.
We’ve napping, and playing and a slobbery baby kiss.
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