WRITE

What Matters Most

It’s the eve of the first day of school and I’m already stressed out with the notion that we have not made any progress in our sleeping habits and have not gone back to the routine long overdue which we dismissed when school ended last June.

Now, as I mulled over the fact that I have to organize our closet to make way for fall/winter wear (still hoping for snow this part of humid/super sunny Lonestar state) while the house itself is in an organized mess, I patiently muster snapping at the kiddos for their own hyper selves.  I try to tether feeling burnout through pinning, and I came across this pin –

This came from Gretchen of Three Little Monkeys Studio as a free printable in 8×10.  And on the comments section, I can’t help but also re-post a comment by Cari where she shared this poem her MIL gave her –

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.

Wham and true. It’s overly tiring to do monotonous chores, to remind our kids to have their quiet time, to stop bantering, wrestling, throwing things at each other, shouting, leaving things everywhere and just stay put.  We may not even have enough privacy in our own little bathrooms without them banging on the door.  But kids grow up and someday, you’ll miss all that chaotic fun with them, no matter how pesky they can be.  So, for now, I’d rather have a messy house and happy kids. Because happy kids have parents who have time for them.  And that’s what matters.

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