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mothers day To all of the beautiful moms I know... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ */MOTHERS and MOMS/* If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around the world by 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, soccer and hockey 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... Please pass along to all the mothers in your life. */ 'Home is what catches you when/* */you fall - and we all fall.'/* *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* Please pass this on to a wonderful mother you know.
Ok so here I am on mothers day..having a decent day so far. My kids are wonderful. I got a lot of string bracelets and necklaces (awesome!) I got some post-it notes with hand written reasons why "I love my mom" (awwww) I even got some home made sparkely bubble bath that smells like starburst! Am I one lucky mother or what??! I'm watchin out the window, the kids are playing in the yard keeping themselves busy by what appears to be throwing themselves around and getting dirty, I'm thinkin..man, that looks like fun!! So, without any intention of actually finding out how fun it is, I go outside to get a closer look at their choice of activity. I am quickly greeted with "mom! watch this!" We all know how dangerous those words can be, but I am happily watching what they are doing, enjoying it as much as they seem to be. I watch my oldest..rocking back and forth sayin"one...two..three" then she throws herself sideways in a great effort to master the elusive cartwheel..over she goes then BAM! Right on her Ass! She looks at me with a grin, gets up and rubs her very dirty and probably very tender booty and waits to watch her little sister who then yells at me.."MOM look I can do three!" So I'm watching intently and away she goes like a little rolley polley. Over and over again she quickly flys across the yard (never actually getting her legs more than 6 inches off the ground..but man shes got her butt in the air!) I am clapping and smiling like a wild woman. Of course then its the older ones turn again and I hear her..one..two..three.. BAM. I can't help but laugh and wonder if the counting actually helps the fallin on the ass thing. I ask her "Doesn't that hurt?" and she says "Oh yeah like a long time ago" *raising my eyebrow* "Then why do you keep doing it?" Seems like the obvious question to me..the 30 year old standing on the porch a safe distance from the flying feet of terror. She says "Because I want to learn how to do a cartwheel" Well..that started it all right there! I'm over there giving them direction and standing positions in an effort to guide them both into the proper technique. Thats when the question comes.."Mom? Do you know how to do a cartwheel?" My first instinct is to run so I dont have to lie to the girl, but instead I just stood there. I looked at my younger daughter whos standing there looking up at me with big innocent eyes asking me this question. I told her the truth thinking the answer would suffice and that would be the end of it. I said "I use to, when I was a kid." So, the two of them in unison "Show us!!" Theres that little voice again...runnnn you fool! My feet just arent cooperating today. I laugh, pretty hard actually thinking there aint no way my big butt is getting out there to do that and I laughingly tell them that at my age there is something highly over rated about putting my ass over my head. My younger daughter reminds me..mom you're only 30 (today I'm ONLY thirty) yesterday I was (OMG you're 30!!) Funny how things change when they want something huh? Again, I decline. Thats when it happens..my oldest (obviously knowing me a bit better and being a little bit more devious and smarter than the younger more innocent child) says..Michele did it (for those of you who don't know, Michele is my best friend and a year older) Well, I dont know about you people, but that sounds like a challenge to me! How could I allow myself to be upstaged by my elder? Pffft! Again.."run amber run!" Still..nothing (damn feet) I told her "Well thats because Michele is a little off in the head" but that didn't detour my evil, but determined child. She says.."Come on mom stop being a wuss!" In my mind I'm thinkin.."Ohhh thems fightin words!" So..what do I do? I run! Kidding..I wish I had. I get my big ass out in the yard and show them how its done. (Pfft, wuss I'll show her!) I'm standing there looking out at the space in front of me like its my mortal enemy and I'm planning a sneak attack. All while I'm hearing from my 5 year old..go momma! Its ok I promise if you fall I'll help you, You're 30 you can do it (what is it with this child and yelling out my age? Gawd shut up!)..oh and by the way watch out and make sure you dont fall down the hill! (Gee, I hadnt considered that yet! Thanks) I considered my older ones approach thinking to myself..one..two..no thats not going to work..what the hell am I doing and how did I get here? I was safe inside watching them out the window, how did I get suckered into this?Damn Michele! Then I hear my older one sayin..Come on wuss, show me! That was the little push off the edge that I needed and there I went. Ass over head. (the kids are clappin like wild women) and them my oldest says..see you didnt look like an idiot at all. (Wtf?) Did it hurt? Hell yeah (especially considering the soreness of another dumb thing I did this weekend) but, I did it and I did it with a little bit of grace lol. There was no BAM at the end which I was so thankful for and I didn't fall down the hill, but I am definitely getting too old to go out there and try to figure out what those 2 are doing when they are hurling themselves around the yard. I did a cartwheel today! Go me!
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