Saturday, April 19, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, 'It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars. And that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon' twice a night for a year. And then read it again, 'Just one more time.'
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college -- or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home?
Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation....
And for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us...
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mother....
'Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.'
A couple drove down the road for several miles, not saying a word. An earlier discussion had led to an argument and neither of them wanted to concede their position. As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs, the husband asked sarcastically,
'Relatives of yours?'
'Yep,' the wife replied, 'In-laws.'
A husband read an article to his wife about how many
words women use a day.... 30,000 to a man's 15,000.
The wife replied, 'The reason has to be because we
have to repeat everything to men...
The husband then turned to his wife and asked, 'What?'
A man said to his wife one day, 'I don't know how you can be so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.'
The wife responded, 'Allow me to explain. God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me; God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!'
1. We have absolutely no idea where our purse is.
2. We believe that dancing with our arms overhead and wiggling our butt while yelling 'woo-hoo!' is truly the sexiest dance move around.
3. We've suddenly decided that we want to kick someone's butt and honestly believe we could do it too.
4. In our last trip to pee, we realize that we now look more like homeless hookers than the goddesses we were just four hours ago.
5. We start crying and telling everyone we see that we love them sooooo much.
6. We get extremely excited and jump up and down every time a new song plays because 'oh my god! I love this song!'
7. We've found a deeper/spiritual side to the geek sitting next to us.
8. We've suddenly taken up smoking and become really good at it.
9. We yell at the bartender, who we believe cheated us by giving us just lemonade, but that's just because we can no longer taste the vodka.
10. We think we are in bed, but our pillow feels strangely like the kitchen floor (or the mop?)
11. We fail to notice that the toilet lid's down when we sit on it.
12. We take our shoes off because we believe it's their fault that we're having problems walking straight.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
When things in your life seem almost to much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar......and the beer.
A Professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
So the Professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The Professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "Yes."
The Professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
"Now," said the Professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.
The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else - the small stuff."
"If you put the sand into the jar first", he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities.
The rest is just sand."
When he had finished, there was a profound silence. Then one of the students raised her hand and with a puzzled expression, inquired what the beer represented.
The Professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers."