A borrowed poem

Some houses try to hide the factThat children shelter there,
Ours boasts it quiet openly,
The signs are Everywhere.For smears on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors,
I should apologize I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.But I sat down with the children,
And we played and laughed and read,
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.For when at times I am forced to choose,
The one job or the other,
I'd like to cook, and clean, and scrub,
But first I'll be a MOTHER.