rockabye

Ok, so Katy Jo officially has to be rocked to sleep now if I ever want her to nap. We worked so hard with the sleep training, teaching her to self-sooth and basically just fall to sleep on her own. Now, she is pulling up, holding on to the crib rails with a death grip and screaming her best scream for as long as it takes for mommy to give in. I just can't take the screaming. I'm sure the neighbors must think something awful has happened, like I've fallen and hurt myself, making it impossible to care for my desperate baby. Fridays are bad, because the cleaning lady is mopping our shared stairwell and I can't imagine what she must think. So after about ten minutes, I go rescue the baby and rock her to sleep. The napping process takes double the time. But, that is okay. Because she is growing super fast and I can hardly stand it! I'm trying to really savor these times. I'm thankful for my friend Jan, (who watches Katy Jo) as today she reported that she enjoys the chance to rock and cuddle with Katy Jo. Originally I had asked Jan not to rock Katy Jo to sleep because I didn't want her to become accustom to this special treatment. Now, however, it is practically a requirement. I don't know how long this will last, but at the same time, I don't know how long I will have a little baby that needs rocking.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue, Lullaby, rockabye, 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 his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullaby, rockaby lullaby loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But 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.
- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton