MEN
Men are good at lifting heavy stuff.
:-)))
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
because that is the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole.
But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows
and the beauty of a woman with passing years -- only grows!
I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at
once.
Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your
girlfriends.
Every time I close the door on reality it comes in through the windows.
This serves as a good clarification for everyone. I'd hate for people to think they were ever insulting me. This term has been misused for too long.
When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch. When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch. When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.
Being a bitch entails raising my child to be strong; people who have a solid sense of personal and social responsibility, who are not afraid to stand up for what they believe in and who love and respect themselves for the beautiful things they are.
Being a bitch means I am free to be the wonderful creature that I am, with all my own intricacies, contradictions, quirks and beauty. Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart. It means I live my life MY way. It means I won't allow anyone to step on me. When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak up against it, I am defined as a bitch. The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everybody's maid, or when I act a little selfish. I am proud to be a bitch!
It means I have the courage an strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I shouldn't be. I am outspoken, opinionated and determined. I want what I want
This is for all the mothers who froze
their buns off on metal bleachers
at soccer games Friday night instead of
watching from cars,
so that when their kids asked, "Did you
see my goal?" they could say,
"Of course, wouldn't have missed it for
the world," and mean it.
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."
This is for all the mothers of Kosovo
who fled in the night and can't find
their children.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to
babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and
made them homes.
For all the mothers of the victims of the
Colorado shooting,
and the mothers of the murderers.
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.
For all the mothers who run carpools and
make cookies
and
sew Halloween costumes.
And all the
mothers who don't.
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 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 school shooting, a
fire, a car accident, a baby dying?
I think so.
So 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.
This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon"
twice a night for a year.
And then reading it again. "Just one
more time."
This is for all the mothers who mess up.
Who yell at their kids in the grocery
store and swat them in despair
and stomp their feet like a tired 2 year
old who wants ice cream before
dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught
their daughters to tie their
shoelaces
before they started school.
And for all
the mothers who opted for Velcro
instead.
For all the mothers who bite their
lips-sometimes until they bleed-
when their 14 year olds dye their hair
green.
Who lock themselves in the bathroom when
babies 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.
This is for all the mothers who teach
their sons to cook
and
their daughters to sink a jump 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 offspring are at
home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and
teddy bears on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have
gone astray,
who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent
their sons 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 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.
An older woman always carries a condom in her purse. A younger woman is still hoping the guy might have one on him.
An older woman is a cheaper date. A younger woman will cost you 12 beers, but an older woman will sleep with you after a cup of herbal tea.
The older a woman gets, the stronger her libido gets and the older a man gets, the weaker his libido gets ... which is why nature intended young guys to go out with older women and young women to go out with older men.
An older woman can wear bright red lipstick during the day without looking like she just had an adventure inside a jam jar. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.
Older women can run faster because they're always wearing sensible shoes.
An older woman is into free sex! An older woman is almost always already attached to someone, so there's no need to develop a phobia about committing to her. The last thing she needs in her life is another clingy, whiny, dependent man.
Older women are more honest. An older woman will tell you that you are an asshole if you're acting like one. A young woman will say nothing, just in case it means you might break up with her.
An older woman will never get pregnant and then suddenly demand that the two of you get married. In fact, if you impregnate an older woman, you will probably be the last to know...
An older woman will never accuse you of "using her." She's using you.
Older women take charge of the situation. An older woman will call you up and ask you for a date. A younger woman will wait forever, by the phone, for you to call...
Older women know how to cook. Young women know how to dial Pizza Hut take out.
Older women are psychic. You never have to confess to having an affair, because somehow they always know.
Older women often own an interesting collection of lingerie that they have acquired from admirers over the years. Young women often don't wear underpants at all, thus practically eliminating all possibility of a striptease.
Older women know what Kegel exercises are.
An older woman will agree to go to McDonald's with you for a meal. Younger women are too nervous to eat anything in front of somebody that they might possibly boff later.
Older women are dignified. They are beyond having a screaming match with you in the middle of the night in a public park.
Older women are experienced. They understand that sometimes, after 12 beers, a boy just can't get it up. A younger woman may need some time to grasp this fact.
An older woman will never accuse you of stealing the best years of her youth because chances are someone else has stolen them first.
Let's see,
I think it started when Madeline Murray O'Hare complained she didn't
want any prayer in our schools, and we said OK.
Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school, the Bible
that says
thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as
yourself.
And we said, OK..
Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they
misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we
might damage their self-esteem. And we said, an expert should know what
he's talking about so we won't spank them anymore.
Then someone said teachers and principals better not discipline our
children when they misbehave. And the school administrators said no
faculty member in this school better touch a student when they misbehave
because we don't want any bad publicity, and we surely don't want to be
sued. And we accepted their reasoning.
Then someone said, let's let our daughters have abortions if they want,
and they won't even have to tell their parents. And we said, that's a
grand idea..
Then some wise school board member said, since boys will be boys and
they're going to do it anyway, let's give our sons all the condoms they
want, so they can have all the fun they desire, and we won't have to
tell their parents they got them at school. And we said, that's another
great
idea.
Then some of our top elected officials said it doesn't matter what we do
in private as long as we do our jobs. And agreeing with them, we said it
doesn't matter to me what anyone, including the President, does in
private as long as I have a job and the economy is good..
And then someone said let's print magazines with pictures of nude women
and call it wholesome down-to-earth appreciation for the beauty of the
female body. And we said we have no problem with that.. And someone else
took that appreciation a step further and published pictures of nude
children and then stepped further still by making them available on
the Internet. And we said they're entitled to their free speech.
And the entertainment industry said, let's make TV shows and movies that
promote profanity, violence, and illicit sex. And let's record music
that encourages rape, drugs, murder, suicide, and satanic themes..
And we said it's just entertainment, it has no adverse effect, and
nobody takes it seriously anyway, so go right ahead..
Therefore, now we're asking ourselves why our children have no
conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't
bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves..
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it
out. I think it has a great deal to do with... "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."
Hands started going up.
He said, "I am going to give this $100 to one of you but first, let me do this."
He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up.
He then asked, "Who still wants it?"
Still the hands were up in the air.
"Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the
ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.
He picked it up, now all crumpled and dirty.
"Now who still wants it?"
Still the hands went into the air.
"My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter
what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was
still worth $100. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled and ground into the
dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.
We feel as though we are worthless.
But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never
lose your value in God's eyes. To Him, dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased,
YOU ARE STILL PRICELESS.
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.
I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for child-care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my friend to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a caesarian scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My friend's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my friend could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My friend's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have
formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reach
across the table, squeeze my friend's hand and offer a silent prayer for her,
and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into
this most wonderful of callings. The blessed gift of God and that of being a
Mother.
Hurricane Katrina Aftermath
Various photos detailing the after affects of Hurricane Katrina
Dauphin Island Page
Pictures and thoughts from Dauphin Island, Alabama
Go back to the main page
Catch that Einstein gif again!
My favorite quotes
Quotes from all over about all
aspects of life
Patriotic thoughts
Something I started right after 9-11-01 and want to continue to add to...
A tribute to children
They grow so fast!!
I've created this page to remember how sweet and pure children
really are.
Need some inspiration? Go here
Writings that have inspired me and
help me when I'm feeling blue
My Quit Smoking Links
Links to places I've found
that have helped me "keep the quit" for over 12 years now.....
Pictures of My Bayou
The Beauty of Bayou Liberty
Herb/vitamin page
Information on the nutritional and
medicinal uses for a variety of herbs. Links, too
My page dedicated to pets
Readings to help you deal with
the grief of losing a pet and other thought provoking pet stuff
Tammany Trace Page
We enjoy biking the trace AND seeing what's on the side of the path, too
