Mud & Mischief

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, 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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullabye, rockabye, lullabye 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 ~

Apologies to all for the dire dearth of postings. My head is a complete shed and I’m having trouble stringing a thought together. I don’t think it’s quite PND; more a case of exhaustion, irritation, exasperation and a lot of other ations that probably don’t bear mentioning.

I was trying to explain it to Mom on the phone tonight - it’s like all the relevant parts of my head are there, but they just aren’t working together. Take cooking, for example. I’m a pretty good cook. I’ve got a handful of very good cookbooks and several dozen average ones. I know how to make a lot of things without even needing a cookbook or recipe. I have a lovely big range cooker, a large US-style fridge crammed with all kinds of fresh food, a chest freezer similarly full, cupboards stocked with every possible staple required, flours, baking things, tins of this and that, pasta, rice, noodles, herbs and spices etc etc. And I have seven days a week that I have to come up with a meal on the table by about 6pm.

Do you think I can manage that?

Can I buggery.

I can’t put all those individual things together in any set order to make any sense. I know there’s chicken breasts in the freezer, broccoli and carrots in the fridge, rice and soy sauce and garlic and such in the cupboard and that Myf has to be out of the house by 5.20pm to get to Brownies on a Monday. But come 3.45pm when I’m looking for dinner inspiration… nothing makes any sense.

Dinner is just one small part of the chaos though. But I’m not going to go there.

On a brighter note, however, my sister-in-law had the most gorgeous little baby boy last week. He’s so tiny and perfect; he has the smallest, neatest face and black hair. He’s just scrumptious. RJ has a buddy, which is great. I’m sure those two little boys are going to run the girls ragged. heh heh. Must get a photo of the two of them together, as although there’s only 20 weeks difference in their ages, at this point, my hefty porker of a son weighs in at nearly 18lbs and his cousin isn’t quite 7lbs!