Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow
For babies grow up, I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, and dust go to sleep
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.
This morning, I was awake around 6. I got up for a few minutes and bushed my teeth and did a few other things, then settled back into bed to do my Bible reading on my nook. Wasn't long, though, before Tommy came creeping down the stairs. Still not quite 7 in the morning, he crawled in under the covers and burrowed into my body. Soft breathing told me he had fallen back asleep.
I laid there and held him for a few minutes, and contemplated my day. There were quite a few things I wanted to get done before I took my newly adopted daughters (well, okay, it's been a few months, and I have procrastinated terribly...), Cynthia and Selah, to the Social Security office in Cleburne to get their names changed on their SS cards. The more I thought about all there was to do, the more I wanted to get up. I was getting hot and sweaty laying there. I started to try and move my arms out from under my sleeping son. His eyes slowly opened and he looked up at me, then his eyelids drifted slowly closed again and he snuggled closer.
And I remembered this poem.
And I thought, "I'm 'rocking' my baby. All those things I need to do can wait." I tossed the covers off my hot body but left them on Tommy, and I settled in to enjoy holding my little guy a little longer, because I've been a mommy long enough to know the truth in the line "babies grow up, I've learned to my sorrow."
We did finally leave the soft bed, and my day began in earnest. But I've thought about "rocking" our babies all day long. And I realize that the "rocking" should never end just because they have gotten too big to fit in our laps.
Tommy came to us a sick, sad little boy. One day shy of six months old when he moved in with us, I was his fourth mommy. He had attachment issues that we had to work through. He was a large baby and I'm a small mommy, but we could rock. And rock, we did, and it got us through those first few months, and helped us learn to love and trust each other:
Tommy wasn't the only baby I rocked. I've gone through a lot of rocking chairs in my 37 years of being a mother. I only wish I had more pictures on my computer to show them all...
Rocking carries on into the next generation, too. I always made up songs when I rocked my baby. Brillant song writer that I am, I sang lyrics such as, "Mommy loves her little baby. Mommy loves her little baby. Mommy loves her little baby. Oh how Mommy loves her baby."
Imagine my surprise as those first two babies grew up and had babies of their own, and one day, when baby number two, Celeste, was visiting, I heard her in the next room, rocking her baby and singing, "Mommy loves her little baby..."
"Hey, Celeste!" I called. "Where'd you learn THAT song??"
"Oh, mom!" she laughed. "It's just so mindless..."
Her babies grew up, too, and her oldest is leaving for college in a few weeks. Not much time left for 'rocking' now...
As I thought about rocking babies today, I thought: should our 'rocking' stop when they outgrow our laps? Just because they are big, does their need for 'rocking' stop?
I don't think so...
What are some ways we can 'rock' our older kids, even on up into the teen years, and beyond? Don't big kids need to feel love, too?
I remembered a lanky firstborn son who always waited until all his little brothers and sisters were in bed to come into my room and talk. He would pace and wave his arms as he told me the things he thought about during the day. I remember I would close the book I was reading to make sure my eyes did not travel back to the pages. He needed me to concentrate on what he was saying. It was my way of 'rocking' my big boy.
In fact, I remember another lanky teenage son who still laid on the end of my bed and listened as I read to his much younger siblings. And now that he is a grown man who lives only part time at our house, at the end of the day, when all the little ones are asleep, he comes to talk, too.
Angel-Leah, even at the age of nine and a good reader, wants to be read
too. If I will read just a couple of chapters, it is the equivalent to
'rocking' her. Her love tank is filled up. Surely I can find time to do that for her?
Mary Susannah likes to stop at Starbucks. Other coffee shops won't do, there is something special about that one. A trip to the thrift shop where she can buy things for her hope chest are a thrill for her. I like to 'rock' her by doing that with her. I should do it more often. Maybe I will!
I only took Cynthia to the SS office today, and we stopped off at Braum's afterwards for ice cream. Just the two of us. And yes, I bought a large, the best way to 'rock' her!!
Take time, and 'rock' your babies.
Because they grow up, we've learned to our sorrow...
Yeah, there is always a goofball in the bunch...
In fact, sometimes there are a whole lot of goofballs...
But regardless, they grow up:
So quiet down, cobwebs, and dust go to sleep..
...while you lay in bed and cuddle a few more minutes, or make a trip to Starbucks, or read another book...
...because babies don't keep...