About Me

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I'm in my 20's. Sometimes I'm okay with that, sometimes I'm not. I have 2 daughters. I have a wonderful man! I'm from the East Coast. Oklahoma has tornados, NOT beaches!! I write. I read. I work hard. I'm addicted to blogger & facebook. Hmm weird! I hate drama, although I am very dramatic. I love pink, shoes, Celine Dion, and Coach purses. This is new to me, because I have always been a tomboy!
Showing posts with label Inspirational. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspirational. Show all posts

5.11.2008

Mother's Day

Just a poem for Mother's Day!!


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...

7.03.2007

Things like THIS...

make my day....

DEAR ABBY: I have been dating a man for about six months. We are both in our 40s and have grown children. Things were becoming serious until about a month ago, when he said he had some personal problems "that I wouldn't understand." Well, yesterday he finally told me what the problem is. Apparently he likes to dress and act like a woman sometimes. He says he does it to "release tension." Some of what he told me seems petty -- he likes women's hygiene products. But I don't understand why he would find release by dressing as a woman because we have an active sex life. He said he has been to counseling many times, and it hasn't helped. I really like him, but I'm not sure if I can handle the whole dressing-like-a-woman thing. What would you do if you were in my situation? -- TOTALLY CONFUSED IN IDAHO

DEAR TOTALLY CONFUSED: If I really cared about him, I think I'd ask to spend some time with his "other self." Then I'd make up my mind about whether or not I could accept the situation. Many cross-dressers are happily married and have perfectly normal marriages except for this one "quirk." (And let's face it -- is anyone completely quirk-free?)

And the other things that make my day...

1.] It's Jackie's Birthday. 26. Welcome to checking the next box on any survey you ever fill out from this day on... and secretly wondering if people reading it think you are nearer "30" than "26" ew. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACKIE!!!! [Blows Birthday Noise Maker in tribute!]

2.] The 4th of July is TOMORROW!!! I'm heading out to COTM for fireworks YAY! I love Independence Day! I'm such a Patriot! I love my country!!!!

3.] I'm Special!!!! That's all [YOU] need to KNOW!

7.01.2007

Fit for a Princess...




I hear Katie Holmes won some award for a Celeb. Magazine as [one of] the most influential celebrities because of her "refreshing, girl-next-door look". I laughed because if an up-and-coming starlet is stupid enough to let the likes of Scientologist Tom Cruise destroy her career before it ever hit its peak, have her pregnant & married before she could blink twice, and basically shove his beliefs down her throat, she is not very influential, just star-struck & gullible. Not to mention one of the other "most influential celebs" happens to be Rosie O' which is just...ummm...wrong & sick.





How could ANYONE define influence in those terms? Because they have natural/fake beauty? Because they do insane, off the wall antics that scream for attention? When did being "owned" and "controlled" [JMO] become influential to society in these terms? When did dressing your child up in full soldier's attire, bullets and all, become influential to society in these terms?





I am not saying these women have NO influence on anyone. I'm not even saying that they have no right to be an influence. But INFLUENCE, by definition is:




Influence: a power affecting a person, thing, or course of events, especially one that operates without any direct or apparent effort.




Oh yeah...that's Rosie O'. [insert eye-roll here]




The MOST influential person of all times is not Katie Holmes, or Rosie O' Donnell, nor is it Anna Nicole Smith's baby girl, Dannielynn.




It's Diana Frances Spencer. A.K.A. Princess Diana of Wales.




Princess Diana was the epitome of humbleness, humanity, love, grace, royalty, and extremely influential in THESE terms. Her grace, tenacity, and overall empathy for the human race as a whole was quite overwhelming and it is hard for me to imagine that anyone else would be able to do what she did with the elegance and intensity that she did it.




Princess Diana made you feel she was speaking directly to you, even through the television. When people watched her walk down that aisle in the 80's, there was a reverence far beyond the norm. I was a young child then, and I still remember seeing it.



Watching her children now, being the men that she taught them from a young age to be, gives me some hope and some reassurance that her traits and her beliefs and her loves did not die with her, but live on with them. I hope that they will continue to carry on the love and grace that their mother bestowed upon them and the public.



Today, I salute Princess Diana. For what she was, what she is, and what she continues to be.



She will be forever missed.

6.25.2007

It might be unhealthy...but it's home...




Driving Mommy & Daddy....CRAZY!!!






...and then after the "fishes"...








11.03.2006

The Marine's Father

The Marine's Father

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.
Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.
The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile.

He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.
"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."
"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?" "I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed."

The next time someone needs you just be there. Stay.