Quote from Forum Archives on May 11, 2003, 8:38 am

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

We would like to wish all Mother's a Happy Mother's Day today.

"Happy Mother's Day" means more
Than have a happy day.
Within those words lie lots of things
We never get to say.
It means I love you first of all,
Then thanks for all you do.
It means you mean a lot to me,
And that I honor you.
But most of all, I guess it means
That I am thinking of
Your happiness on this, your day,
With pleasure and with love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

M - is for the million things she gave me,

O - means only that she's growing old,

T - is for tears she shed to save me,

H - is for her heart of purest gold,

E - is for her eyes, with love light shining,

R - means right, and right she'll always be,

Put them all together, they spell MOTHER
A word that means the world to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Images Of Mother

4 Year of Age: My Mommy can do anything!
8 Year of Age: My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
12 Year of Age: My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
14 Year of Age: Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
16 Year of Age: Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
18 Year of Age: That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 Year of Age: Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 Year of Age: Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 Year of Age: Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 Year of Age: Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

Top 10 Momisms

Quotes you have heard from your mom and are probably using yourself!

You've heard your mom say it hundreds of times, you are now saying it. You know what we're talking about those lines all moms seem to have handy when they need the kids to obey. It's hard to pick just ten, so here's our top picks with a few extras thrown in.

Why? Because I said so, that's why!

I'm going to give you until the count of three!

It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt

I don't know is NOT an answer

I would never have talked to my mother like that

I'm not running a taxi service

If everyone jumped off a cliff would you do it too?

Someday your face will freeze like that

It hurts me more than it hurts you

I love you

Money doesn't grow on trees

Were you born in a barn? Shut the door

Go ask your dad

I'm not talking just to hear my own voice

I hope someday when you have kids they're just like you, then you'll know

Bob, Sue, Joe, Fido..whatever your name is.

You've Turned Into A Mom When

You automatically double-knot everything you tie.

You find yourself humming the Barney song as you do the dishes.

You hear a baby cry in the grocery store, and you start to gently sway back and forth, back and forth. However, your children are at school!

You actually start to like the smell of strained carrots mixed with applesauce.

You weep through the scene in Dumbo when his mom is taken away, not to mention what Bambi does to you.

You get soooo into crafts you contemplate writing a book called 101 Fun Crafts to do with Dryer Lint and Eggshells.

You spend a half hour searching for your sunglasses only to have your teenager say, "Mom, why don't you wear the ones you pushed up on your head?"

You are out for a nice romantic meal with your husband, enjoying some real adult conversation, when suddenly you realize that you've reached over and started to cut up his steak!

I Am A Mom

There's a container of neon pink Silly Slime dumped in my purse and a half-eaten, squashed strawberry Pop Tart in my jacket pocket. I wear baggy sweats with elastic waists. I know every Raffi song by heart. I LIVE for nap times. My heart pounds for Mr. Rogers -- he likes me just the way I am,
and I'll now gladly admit that Barney is my best friend.

At any given moment, I might be carrying a wad of ABC gum ("already been chewed") or the remains of whatever's yucky from a child's mouth -- or nose.

Small children throw up on me regularly. I wash my children's face with spit and my thumb. Show their rashes to ANYONE and EVERYONE who'll look. Wipe their noses with my shirt.

I'm sure you've seen me at the market. I'm the one with the permanent stain on my shoulder from baby spit up. The one with dirty footprints on my shirt from nonstop kicking in the stomach by the child sitting in the grocery cart. The one who didn't have an answer to the (loudly) asked question, "Do we HAVE to eat dog food again tonight like Daddy said we did?"

You've probably seen me at the mall trying to maneuver a stroller with a crying baby who's struggling to get out while I'm chasing the only child in history who can be in 12 places at once. I'm the one carrying the worn-out blankie and Cabbage Patch doll, the one I warned I wouldn't carry. The one shouting, "Don't touch!" I said, "DON'T TOUCH!" The one with the red face after discovering that it is MY child who's using the display toilet at Sears. The one muttering, "I'm NEVER doing this again."

You know who I am.

I'm the one with the glazed look on my face after answering for the millionth time, "I don't know what worms eat." I sniff at a baby's diaper -- on purpose. Eat leftover baby food smeared on toast for breakfast. Consider myself lucky to get a shower by noon. I eat standing up. I drink leftover milk with graham cracker crumbs floating in it. I eat the crusts nobody wants.

Once upon a time I had a stomach that didn't fall to the floor. Once I had hips that didn't serve as a baby saddle. Once I even had breasts that weren't on call 24 hours a day -- and "will it show milk stains" wasn't my criterion for choosing an outfit.

If you emptied out my purse, you'd find: diapers (new and used), a plastic bag of Cherrios, a leaky Tommy Tippy cup, a handful of napkins from McDonald's, a sandy pacifier, a soggy piece of bagel, a bottle of baby Tylenol, and a rectal thermometer.

You know me.

I'm bleary-eyed from being up all night with a teething baby and teary-eyed from worrying about a toddler that refuses to eat. I'm damp with baby drool, and I have oatmeal in my hair. (I think my sweater's on inside out, but hey, at least I'm dressed.)

I can't remember the last time I had a whole night's sleep or a HOT cup of coffee. The only book I've read in the past 6 months is "Good Night Moon."

I never get to finish a senten....

I love my husband, but (yawn) ... zzzzzzzzzz.

Don't ask me if I've seen any good movies lately. I have if you count the Little Mermaid, Pete Pan, and Cinderella. I know all the names of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles by heart, AND what color each of them wears. I say "Cowabunga, dude," when the pizza's delivered.

I used to be reasonably intelligent, pondering the deep secrets of the universe. I spent many years in college preparing myself for the great challenges of life. Now I find myself wondering such things as: If Bert and Ernie aren't related, why do they sleep in the same room? And, where are their parents?

I remember when getting together with friends meant stimulating conversation about current events, love and the meaning of life. Now we talk for hours about the color of the contents of our babies' diapers. Should we go from breast to bottle to cup? Skip bottles altogether? Which is better, cloth or disposable? Pacifiers or thumbs? Know any good potty-training tips?

Maybe you've seen me at church. I'm the one with my skirt on backwards, or the entire inner-facing of my dress hanging out. In my rush to get everybody else dressed, I often forget to check my own appearance. (Oh, I want to thank you for not laughing at my one eye made up and my other one bare. In the middle of doing my make-up, someone emptied the flour canister onto the kitchen floor and I never got around to finishing my eyes.)

I know you don't know my first name-- I don't have one anymore. I answer to my child calling Mom, Mommy, Mama, or WAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! To be honest, I don't even remember my first name -- I've stop using it myself. When speaking, I simply refer to myself as, "Mommy." "Mommy says to stop poking the cats ears." "Mommy's ears can't hear whining." "Yes, Mommy's wearing her angry face." "If you don't stop kicking Mommy, Mommy's going to lose it."

Maybe you saw me lose it one day in the Toys R Us parking lot. With one child kicking the back of my car seat, and another one chanting "I wanna go to the park! I wanna go to the park!" I lost it. Slammed on the brakes and ran out of the car screaming, "Calgon take me away!" The kids still refer to it as "the time Mommy went cuckoo."

But I have my good days, too. Days when we get through breakfast without Cream of Rice on the wall. Days when the cat doesn't end up in the toilet. Days when everyone takes a nap at the same time. On those days I feel powerful. In control. On those days, I can do it all.

I am MOMMY, hear me roar.
I can nurse a baby and cook dinner at the same time. I can nurse a baby, read a magazine, AND tie shoes at the same time. I can even nurse a baby, AND talk on the phone, AND fold laundry AND watch Oprah all at the same time.

You know who I am. I'm a Mommy.
And I don't even need an American Express card to prove it.

Have A Happy Mother's Day
Dave and Barbara

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