Happy Mother's Day
Lynda
This is for all 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 OK honey, Mommy's here."
Who walk around the house all night with their babies when they keep crying
and won't stop.
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 all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at
football or soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so
that when their kids asked, "Did you see me?" 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 like a tired 2-year old who
wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained
all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just
couldn't.
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
ump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice
calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own off-spring are at
home.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomachaches, 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 sometimes until they bleed - when
their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
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 heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch
your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for
the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed
to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need
to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a
fire, a car accident, a child dying?
For all the mothers of the victims of all these 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 mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's
graves.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation. And 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.
So hang in there. Please pass along to all the Mom's in your life. "Home
is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall." Please pass this to a
wonderful mother you know. (I just did)
their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
Who walk around the house all night with their babies when they keep crying
and won't stop.
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 all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at
football or soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so
that when their kids asked, "Did you see me?" 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 like a tired 2-year old who
wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained
all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just
couldn't.
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
ump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice
calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own off-spring are at
home.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomachaches, 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 sometimes until they bleed - when
their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
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 heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch
your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for
the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed
to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need
to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a
fire, a car accident, a child dying?
For all the mothers of the victims of all these 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 mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's
graves.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation. And 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.
So hang in there. Please pass along to all the Mom's in your life. "Home
is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall." Please pass this to a
wonderful mother you know. (I just did)
Debra Bures
HappyMother's Day to those of us who are mothers and to those who helped us be mothers
Debra
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Debra
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Tami Labig-Duquette
Thanks Debra! I hope everyone had a nice Mothers Day :)
Tami
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com
Tami
>From: "Debra Bures" <buresfam@...>_________________________________________________________________
>Reply-To: [email protected]
>To: <[email protected]>
>Subject: [Unschooling-dotcom] Happy Mother's Day
>Date: Sun, 13 May 2001 17:09:30 -0400
>
>HappyMother's Day to those of us who are mothers and to those who helped us
>be mothers
> Debra
>
>
>[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com
Mary
Being a Mom is.....
It's picking up your sleeping baby just to hold and smell.
It's hearing every breath in the middle of the night from the day they were born.
It's a million pictures.
It's aching inside with every bruised knee.
It's going to the bathroom with an audience.
It's relishing the quiet 3 a.m. feedings long after they're needed.
It's fearing the worst out of every scream.
It's wiping runny noses with your shirt.
It's playing the troll under the bridge.
It's burying crabs and snails instead of throwing them over the fence.
It's saving weeds in glasses of water.
It's kissing dirty toes.
It's constantly saying, "Mommy will be right there" because all your kids call from different points in the house at the same time.
It's rocking them in your arms, even when they're 10.
It's crying when you're happy.
It's finding joy in the smallest things.
It's finding laughter in faces and
finding warmth in little arms.
It's going to bed with a tired smile
and a satisfied heart.
Mary B
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
It's picking up your sleeping baby just to hold and smell.
It's hearing every breath in the middle of the night from the day they were born.
It's a million pictures.
It's aching inside with every bruised knee.
It's going to the bathroom with an audience.
It's relishing the quiet 3 a.m. feedings long after they're needed.
It's fearing the worst out of every scream.
It's wiping runny noses with your shirt.
It's playing the troll under the bridge.
It's burying crabs and snails instead of throwing them over the fence.
It's saving weeds in glasses of water.
It's kissing dirty toes.
It's constantly saying, "Mommy will be right there" because all your kids call from different points in the house at the same time.
It's rocking them in your arms, even when they're 10.
It's crying when you're happy.
It's finding joy in the smallest things.
It's finding laughter in faces and
finding warmth in little arms.
It's going to bed with a tired smile
and a satisfied heart.
Mary B
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
kayb85
That was good! Here's another good one:
A mother's love determines how
We love ourselves and others.
There is no sky we'll ever see
Not lit by that first love.
Stripped of love, the universe
Would drive us mad with pain;
But we are born into a world
That greets our cries with joy.
How much I owe you for the kiss
That told me who I was!
The greatest gift--a love of life--
Lay laughing in your eyes.
Because of you my world still has
The soft grace of your smile;
And every wind of fortune bears
The scent of your caress.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon
Sheila
--- In [email protected], "Mary" <mummy124@b...>
wrote:
A mother's love determines how
We love ourselves and others.
There is no sky we'll ever see
Not lit by that first love.
Stripped of love, the universe
Would drive us mad with pain;
But we are born into a world
That greets our cries with joy.
How much I owe you for the kiss
That told me who I was!
The greatest gift--a love of life--
Lay laughing in your eyes.
Because of you my world still has
The soft grace of your smile;
And every wind of fortune bears
The scent of your caress.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon
Sheila
--- In [email protected], "Mary" <mummy124@b...>
wrote:
> Being a Mom is.....they were born.
>
> It's picking up your sleeping baby just to hold and smell.
> It's hearing every breath in the middle of the night from the day
> It's a million pictures.fence.
> It's aching inside with every bruised knee.
> It's going to the bathroom with an audience.
> It's relishing the quiet 3 a.m. feedings long after they're needed.
> It's fearing the worst out of every scream.
> It's wiping runny noses with your shirt.
> It's playing the troll under the bridge.
> It's burying crabs and snails instead of throwing them over the
> It's saving weeds in glasses of water.your kids call from different points in the house at the same time.
> It's kissing dirty toes.
> It's constantly saying, "Mommy will be right there" because all
> It's rocking them in your arms, even when they're 10.
> It's crying when you're happy.
> It's finding joy in the smallest things.
> It's finding laughter in faces and
> finding warmth in little arms.
> It's going to bed with a tired smile
> and a satisfied heart.
>
> Mary B
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
jmcseals SEALS
Thank you Mary, this is beautiful!
Jennifer
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Jennifer
_________________________________________________________________
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Robyn Coburn
There was a sad period in Australia's history that is dramatized by that
film, when Aboriginal children were removed from their parents and
placed in boarding schools "for their own good", and eventually taught
to be domestic servants. There are still adults searching for their
ancestry. Aborigines traditionally have very complicated family
relationships based not only on blood but also spirit relatives, with
certain taboos about intermarriage, that have been charted - some of the
ancient artworks that seem to be abstracts are "family trees". The
disruption to these relationships has been very painful for the people,
a deliberate attempt to destroy the culture and spiritual life of the
tribes. Nor are they a homogenous group, but many tribes now see
themselves as one nation politically. The land rights movement has an
ironic twist. It turns out that many traditional lands, returned to the
traditional owners by the government, are the ones with highly valuable
minerals (esp. Uranium) buried in them.
Robyn Coburn
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
film, when Aboriginal children were removed from their parents and
placed in boarding schools "for their own good", and eventually taught
to be domestic servants. There are still adults searching for their
ancestry. Aborigines traditionally have very complicated family
relationships based not only on blood but also spirit relatives, with
certain taboos about intermarriage, that have been charted - some of the
ancient artworks that seem to be abstracts are "family trees". The
disruption to these relationships has been very painful for the people,
a deliberate attempt to destroy the culture and spiritual life of the
tribes. Nor are they a homogenous group, but many tribes now see
themselves as one nation politically. The land rights movement has an
ironic twist. It turns out that many traditional lands, returned to the
traditional owners by the government, are the ones with highly valuable
minerals (esp. Uranium) buried in them.
Robyn Coburn
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Shari
Mary,
This is beautiful...becomeing a grandma(I have a 26 year old
daughter with two boys ages 3 years and 2 years old) for the third
time this May 9th,it really brought tears to my eyes.
Happy Mother's Day All
Shari
--- In [email protected], "Mary" <mummy124@b...>
wrote:
This is beautiful...becomeing a grandma(I have a 26 year old
daughter with two boys ages 3 years and 2 years old) for the third
time this May 9th,it really brought tears to my eyes.
Happy Mother's Day All
Shari
--- In [email protected], "Mary" <mummy124@b...>
wrote:
> Being a Mom is.....they were born.
>
> It's picking up your sleeping baby just to hold and smell.
> It's hearing every breath in the middle of the night from the day
> It's a million pictures.fence.
> It's aching inside with every bruised knee.
> It's going to the bathroom with an audience.
> It's relishing the quiet 3 a.m. feedings long after they're needed.
> It's fearing the worst out of every scream.
> It's wiping runny noses with your shirt.
> It's playing the troll under the bridge.
> It's burying crabs and snails instead of throwing them over the
> It's saving weeds in glasses of water.your kids call from different points in the house at the same time.
> It's kissing dirty toes.
> It's constantly saying, "Mommy will be right there" because all
> It's rocking them in your arms, even when they're 10.
> It's crying when you're happy.
> It's finding joy in the smallest things.
> It's finding laughter in faces and
> finding warmth in little arms.
> It's going to bed with a tired smile
> and a satisfied heart.
>
> Mary B
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
jmcseals SEALS
<snip>...becomeing a grandma...for the third
time this May 9th,it really brought tears to my eyes.
Shari>>>
SHARI!! You are in trouble! (Or did I miss the birth announcement??) Tell
us about that new grandbaby! Congratulations!!! I'm sure this is a
Mother's Day you'll never forget!
Oh, I just LOVE new little babies!
Jennifer, feeling hints of newborn baby fever......
_________________________________________________________________
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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
time this May 9th,it really brought tears to my eyes.
Shari>>>
SHARI!! You are in trouble! (Or did I miss the birth announcement??) Tell
us about that new grandbaby! Congratulations!!! I'm sure this is a
Mother's Day you'll never forget!
Oh, I just LOVE new little babies!
Jennifer, feeling hints of newborn baby fever......
_________________________________________________________________
Protect your PC - get McAfee.com VirusScan Online
http://clinic.mcafee.com/clinic/ibuy/campaign.asp?cid=3963
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]