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The van is full of cheerios
There's spit-up in my hair
I try to walk across the house
But toys are everywhere
The sound of young ones fussing
Rings through every room
And do I smell another whiff of sweet poo-poo perfume?
The baby's fought his nap all day
Big Bro's refusing his
This thing that they call Motherhood
Oh what a life it is!
Still have to shop for groceries
Get dinner on by six
If only I had some idea
What I've time to fix
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clothes are stained and out of style
Got bags under my eyes
I have a hairstyle that just screams
I paid $9.95!
There's dishes piled up in the sink
Wash heaped on unmade beds
Sometimes I wonder how it is
I'll ever get ahead
Then a smile comes to my face
As I stop to recall
The two sweet precious babies
Who make it worth it all
They won't recall a dirty house
Or Mommy's goofy hair
They'll just remember how it felt
To know that someone cared
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someone kept them warm and dry
And safe and fed and loved
That someone read them stories, sang them songs,
And gave them hugs
I'll do the best I can today, fall into bed by 10
Look forward to tomorrow's chance to do it all again
I'll focus on the good stuff
All the fun and all the joy
And remember in my prayers tonight
Thank God for little boys!!!
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© 2004-2008 Beth Buchsbaum
The Cost of Raising a
Child
The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from
birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle income family. Talk
about sticker shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition.
For those with kids, that figure leads to wild fantasies about all the
money we could have banked if not for Matthew.
For others, that number might confirm the decision to remain childless.
But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates into
$8,896.66 a year, $741.38 a month, or $171.08 a week. That's a mere
$24.44 a day! Just over a dollar an hour.
Still, you might think the best financial advice says don't have
children if you want to be "rich". It is just the opposite. So, what DO
you get for your $160,140?
Naming rights. First, middle, and last! Glimpses of God everyday.
Giggles under the covers every night. More love than your heart can
hold. Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs. Endless wonder over rocks,
ants, clouds, and warm cookies. A hand to hold usually covered with
jam. A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sandcastles,
and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain. Someone to laugh
yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or how poorly your
stocks performed that day.
For $160,140, you never have to grow up.
You get to finger-paint, carve pumpkins, play hide- and-seek, catch
lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus. You have an
excuse to keep: reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching
Saturday morning cartoons, going to Disney movies, and wishing on
stars. You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under
refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for
Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with
backward letters for Father's Day.
For $160,140, there is no greater bang for your buck.
You get to be a hero just for retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,
taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a splinter, filling a
wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball
team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.
You get a front row seat to history to witness the first step, first
word, first bra, first date, and first time behind the wheel. You get
to be immortal. You get another branch added to your family tree, and
if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called
grandchildren. You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal
justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.
In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there with God. You have all
the power to heal a boo-boo, scare away the monsters under the bed,
patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and
love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without
counting the cost.
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© 1996-2008 Michael Buchsbaum. All rights reserved.
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