Dedications

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Dedications to Mothers

April 08

I'm Invisible

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being.
I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?'
I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.'
And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime, because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself.
I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, mom!
Shared with us by Charla, April 2008

What the Bible says about Mothers...

Gen 3:20 Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.
Exo 20:12 "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.
Lev 19:3 "'Each of you must respect his mother and father, and you must observe my Sabbaths. I am the LORD your God.
Deu 5:16 "Honor your father and your mother, as the LORD your God has commanded you, so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the LORD your God is giving you.
2 Ki 4:30 But the child's mother said, "As surely as the LORD lives and as you live, I will not leave you." So he got up and followed her.
Prov 10:1 The proverbs of Solomon: A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother.
Isa 66:13 As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem."
Ezek 16:44 "'Everyone who quotes proverbs will quote this proverb about you: "Like mother, like daughter."
Luke 1:43 But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
Luke 2:51 Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart.
John 19:26-27 When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.
Taken from: http://wilstar.com/holidays/mothers.htm

April 06
My name is Ani and I hail from NZ

I was thinking about mother's day and all the stories about women who for what ever reason travelled across oceans to start a new life in a new country, some never to return to their home land. The fortitude and some times loneliness they must have felt. This was given to me by a friend and I have no idea who wrote it. Although it is written for modern women it could also have been written for all those that have gone before us . I salute you mothers past and present every where
WOMEN ARE SPECIAL

They smile when they want to scream
They sing when they want to cry
They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous
They fight for what they believe in
They stand up for injustice
They don't take "no" for An answer when there is a better solution
They go without new shoes so their children can have them
They go to the doctor with a frightened friend
They love unconditionally
They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a marriage
Their heart breaks when a friend dies
They have sorrow at the loss of a family member,
Yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left
They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart
Women come in all sizes colors and shapes
They drive fly walk run or e-mail you to show how much they care
The heart of a woman is what makes the world spin
Women do more than give birth
They bring joy and hope
They give compassion and ideals
They give moral support to their family and friends
Women have a lot to say and a lot to give.

Best wishes to all at wwcof Ani

April 06

Ode to a Mother

The young mother set her foot on the path of life, "Is this the long way?" she asked. And the guide said,"Yes, and the way is hard, and you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning."

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years.

So she played with her children, she fed them and bathed them, taught them how to tie shoes and ride a bike, and reminded them to feed the dog and do their homework and brush their teeth.
The sun shone on them and the young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."

Then the nights came, and the storms and the path was sometimes dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her arms and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."

And the morning came and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children, a little patience and we are there."

So the children climbed and as they climbed they learned to weather the storms. And with this, she gave them strength to face the world.

Year after year she gave them compassion, understanding, hope, but most of all.... unconditional love. And when they reached the top they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you."

The days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she became little and bent.

But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And the mother, when she lay down at night, looked up at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned so much and are now passing these traits on to their children."

And when the way became rough for her, they lifted her, and gave her their strength, just as she had given them hers. One day they came to a hill, and beyond the hill they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide And Mother said: "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk with dignity and pride, with their heads held high, and so can their children after them."

And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates." And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her, but she is with us still."
A Mother is more than a memory.
She is a living presence.

Your Mother is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street, she's the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick and perfume that she wore, she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well, she's your breath in the air on a cold winter day. She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, she is your birthday morning.

Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every teardrop. A mother shows every emotion happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow....and all the while hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life. She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's the map you follow with every step you take.

She's your first love; your first friend even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space.... not even death!

Shared with us by Linda Rhodes, Vicki and Sharon

April 06

DON'T MESS WITH MOM

My son came home from school one day,
with a smirk upon his face.
He decided he was smart enough,
to put me in my place.
"Guess what I learned in Civics Two,
that's taught by Mr. Wright,
It's all about the laws today,
The 'Children's Bill of Rights.'
It says I need not clean my room,
don't have to cut my hair
No one can tell me what to think,
or speak, or what to wear.
I have freedom from religion,
and regardless what you say,
I don't have to bow my head,
and I sure don't have to pray.
I can wear earrings if I want,
and pierce my tongue and nose.
I can read and watch just what I like,
get tattoos from head to toe.
And if you ever spank me,
I'll charge you with a crime.
I'll back up all my charges,
with the marks on my behind.
Don't you ever touch me,
my body's only for my use,
not for your hugs and kisses,
that's just more child abuse.
Don't preach about your morals,
like your Mama did to you.
That's nothing more than mind control,
and it's illegal too!
Mom, I have these children's rights,
so you can't influence me,
or I'll call Children's Services Division,
better known as C.S.D."

Of course my first instinct was
to toss him out the door
But the chance to teach him a lesson
made me think a little more.
I mulled it over carefully,
I couldn't let this go.
A smile crept upon my face,
he's messing with a pro.
Next day I took him shopping
at the local Goodwill Store.
I told him, "Pick out all you want,
there's shirts and pants galore.
I've called and checked with C.S.D.
who said they didn't care if I bought you K-Mart shoes
instead of those Nike Airs.
I've cancelled that appointment
to take your driver's test.
The C.S.D. is unconcerned
so I'll decide what's best."
I said "No time to stop and eat,
or pick up stuff to munch.
And tomorrow you can start to learn
to make your own sack lunch.
Just save the raging appetite,
and wait till dinner time.
We're having liver and onions,
a favourite dish of mine."
He asked "Can I please rent a movie,
to watch on my VCR?"
"Sorry, but I sold your TV,
for new tires on my car
I also rented out your room,
you'll take the couch instead.
The C.SD. requires
just a roof over your head.
Your clothing won't be trendy now,
I'll choose what we eat.
That allowance that you used to get,
will buy me something neat.
I'm selling off your jet ski,
dirt-bike & roller blades.
Check out the 'Parents Bill of Rights',
It's in effect today!
Hey hot shot, are you crying,
Why are you on your knees?
Are you asking God to help you out,
instead of C.S.D.?"
Send to all people that have teenagers or have already raised teenagers, or have children who will soon be teenagers or those who will be parents someday OR ANYONE WHO'D JUST GET A LAUGH ...I love this One!!!
from a MOM (Mean Old Mother.)
Sent in by Charla

A BABY�S HUG. A story worth thinking about

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy wit! h a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.

"Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?"
Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi".

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo."
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.

My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skidrow bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments. We finally got through the meal and headed for the door.

My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's.

Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back.

No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby."

Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift." I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.

With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me."

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.

I felt it was God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."
This was shared with us by Charla

A TREASURE

by Charla Linder Simmons

The sun shows above the earth, as yet another day begins.
She opens her eyes for a new most busy day to start.
Her mind is already trying to figure what must come first.
Her hours aren't enough for what their needs are, but somehow she always finds a way to make it all work.
Motherhood is the most important in her life, as is being a wife.
Her children have, "Their Own Minds," not always being, �Her Way."
She guides them with much love and lot's of understanding, as she tries to help develop their independence.
Sometimes " Overwhelming! "
She's to be sure they are involved in their childhood.
Their ball games and school plays are sometimes more than she can handle!
After a hard day at work, grocery shopping, and whatever still lies ahead for that evening.
She is so tired she sometimes wonders if she can do," It All."
But somehow she reaches inside and finds the little bit of reserve she has left and keeps on going.
Always with, "A Mother's Enthusiam."
Her Son is always so Proud that, "She's His Mom!"
Her daughter follows at her heels to one day show the "Mother's Love," she has taught her.
She too, is a friend to many, with a caring heart.
She tries to give advice when asked or just merely listens.
She deals with the, Hard Times," the best way she can.
Her Husband Stands Up and calls her, "A TREASURE!"
Those that know her can only love her and agree.
These years will one day be: "A Memory," that only, she has captured, "In Every Way!"
These my "Dear Young Mothers," are the true "GOLDEN YEARS."
The ones you will hold onto as you begin to slow down.
Take time to capture one special event from your children each day.
Their young years are gone far too fast!
So To You Young Mother's Everywhere...
I wish you the "Happiest Motherhood," ever.

Written By: Charla Linder Simmons
May 14th, 2000
Copyright �2004

Feb 05
B>Before I was a Mom Before I was a Mom -
I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed.
I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.
BR> Before I was a Mom -
I cleaned my house each day.
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom -
I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Spit on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom -
I never held down a screaming child So that doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom -
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom -
I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom -
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth,
The joy,
The love,
The heartache,
The wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.

And before I was a Grandma, I didn't know that all those "Mom" feelings more than doubled when you see that little bundle being held by 'your' baby...

And remember that behind every successful mother......
Is a basket of dirty laundry..!!!

WHY I LOVED MY MOM

Mom and Dad were watching TV when Mom said, "I'm tired, and it's getting late. I think I'll go to bed."
She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day's lunches.
Rinsed out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for supper the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar container, put spoons and bowls on the table and started the coffee pot for brewing the next morning.
She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button. She picked up the game pieces left on the table, put the phone back on the charger and put the telephone book into the drawer.
She watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel to dry.
She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom. She stopped by the desk and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some cash for the field trip, and pulled a text book out from hiding under the chair.
She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick note for the grocery store. She put both near her purse. Mom then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her night solution & age fighting moisturizer, brushed and flossed her teeth, filed her nails and then washed her hands making them satiny smooth.
Dad called out, "I thought you were going to bed."
"I'm on my way," she said.
She put some water into the dog's dish and put the cat outside, then made sure the doors were locked and the patio light was on. She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps and TV's, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks into the hamper, and had a brief conversation with the one still up doing homework.
In her own room, she set the alarm; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack. She added three things to her 6 most important things to do list. She said her prayers, and visualized the accomplishment of her goals.
About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in particular. "I'm going to bed." And he did...without another thought.
Anything extraordinary here?

Wonder why women live longer...? 'CAUSE WE ARE MADE FOR THE LONG HAUL......
(and we can't die sooner, we still have things to do!!!!) .

Sent in by Vicki, Thanks for sharing!

GIRLFRIENDS

I sat on the porch overlooking a beautiful mountain lake on a summer day, enjoying a glass of wine with my Mom, older than me, mother of four, experienced and wise. "Get yourself some girlfriends", she advised, swirling the wine in her glass. "You are going to need girlfriends. Go places with them, do things with them."

What a funny piece of advice, I thought. Hadn't I just gotten married? Hadn't I just joined the couple world? I was a married woman, for goodness sake, not a young girl who needed girlfriends. But I listened to my Mom and I got back in touch with my old girlfriends of years long gone.

As the years tumbled by, one after another, gradually I came to understand that Mom knew what she was talking about. Here is what I know about them:

Girlfriends bring casseroles and scrub your bathroom when you are sick.
Girlfriends keep your children and keep your secrets.
Girlfriends give advice when you ask for it. Sometimes you take it, sometimes you don't.
Girlfriends don't always tell you that you're right, but they're usually honest.
Girlfriends still love you, even when they don't agree with your choices.
Girlfriends might send you a birthday card, but they might not. It doesn't matter in the least.
Girlfriends laugh with you, and you don't need canned jokes to start the laughter.
Girlfriends pull you out of jams.
Girlfriends don't keep a calendar that lets them know who hosted the other last.
Girlfriends will give a party for your son or daughter when they get married or have a baby, in whichever order that comes.
And girlfriends are there for you, in an instant and truly, when the hard times come.
Girlfriends listen when you lose a job or a husband.
Girlfriends listen when your children break your heart.
Girlfriends listen when your parents' minds and bodies fail.
My girlfriends bless my life.

Once we were young, with no idea of the incredible joys or the incredible sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.
Thanks Vicki for this inspiring piece of advice

WHY MOMS DESERVE A GOLD MEDAL

BY ANDREA BUSHALA

6,480: number of minutes it takes to create and birth a child
6,481: number of minutes it takes a 9-year-old to set the table

11: number of steps from a child's room to the bathroom
2: number of steps a sick child can walk before vomiting

1: number of times you let a swearword escape in your child's presence
100: number of times your child will repeat the swearword to your in-laws and anyone else within earshot

722; number of cute, clean matching outfits a baby girl has in her closet
2: number of cute. clean matching outfits Mom has in her closet

3: number of minutes you looked away from your purse
3: number of primer coats required to cover the lipstick, originally in your purse, that's now on the living room walls

9: number of shots a child entering school is required to have by age 5
8: number of nurses required to pry a child off of her mom to get the shots

13: number of months spent taking your body temperature, counting days, charting your ovulation cycle and forcing copulation in order to produce a sibling for your 3-year-old to share her life with
15: number of times a day your firstborn will reduce her sibling to tears by telling him "You were adopted"

12: number of days straight you will go without attending to any form of personal hygiene when the flu hits your family
3: number of minutes it takes to run into both your high school sweetheart and the prom queen while standing in line at the drugstore in your hygienically challenged state

262: number of frozen waffles that are toasted, buttered, and drenched in syrup for breakfast each year
1: number of waffles eaten by Mom each year

7: number of years that have been lovingly and meticulously recorded (photos included) in your firstborn child's baby book
6: number of years your next child's baby book sits lovingly preserved in its original box and cellophane wrapper before it's re-gifted to your pregnant niece�for her firstborn

98.6: normal temperature of a child
101.6: temperature of a child anytime Mom puts on lipstick, jewelry, and panty hose

12: number of months it takes a child to learn to sleep through the night
216: number of months until a child leaves for college, allowing you to sloop through the night again

Shared with us by Liz

Mother�s Hands

Dear mother of mine, when I think of your hands
My heart fills with love for you.
From the very first day I arrived in your life
They have had manu things they must do.

Your hands fed and dressed me when I was small,
Held me close for a lullabye;
Applauded my achievements as I grew older �
Encouraged me always to try!

Your hands applied bandages, wiped away tears,
And worked to provide things I needed,
They reached for all of life�s best things for me
While often your needs went unheeded.

No I have grown up and can care for myself
But I know where those hands will be,
As years come and go they�ll have one more task �
They�ll be folded in prayer for me.

Helen Bush
Art and Verse � Leiden

Sent in by Pat

This is hysterical. If it had been presented this way, none of us would have done it!!!!

Jeanette JOB POSITION:
Mother, Mum, Mummy,Mom, Mama, Mommy

JOB DESCRIPTION:

Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in an, often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call.
Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities.
Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

RESPONSIBILITIES:

The rest of your life.
Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5.
Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.
Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf.
Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers.
Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects.
Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.
Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next.
Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.
Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst.
Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product.
Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION:

Virtually none. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.
PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE:
None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION:

Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.
BENEFITS:

While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free hugs for life if you play your cards right.

This is for all the Mums you know, in appreciation for everything they do on a daily basis, and to let them know they are appreciated.
Thanks Jeanette for this gem!!

MOTHERS

Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby.
Somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, normal is history.

Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct . . .
Somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.

Somebody said being a mother is boring . .
Somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good" .
Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices . . .
Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother . . .
Somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.
Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first...
Somebody doesn't have five children.

Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books . .
Somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.

Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery...
Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten . .
Or on a plane headed for military "boot camp"
Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back ...
Somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married...
Somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home...
Somebody never had grandchildren.

Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her...
Somebody isn't a mother.
Pass this along to all the "mothers" in your life
Have A Great and Happy Mother�s Day where ever you are!!!

Thanks, Jeanette, for sharing this!!

To My Children

When I spill some food on my nice clean clothes
Or maybe forget to tie my shoe,
Please be patient and perhaps reminisce
About the many hours I spent with you.
When I taught you how to eat with care,
Plus tying laces and your numbers, too,
Dressing yourself and combing your hair,
Those were precious hours spent with you.
So when I forget what I was about to say,
Just give me a minute � or maybe two.
It probably wasn�t important anyway,
And I would much rather listen just to you.
If I tell the story one more time,
And you know the ending through and through,
Please remember your first nursery rhyme
When I rehearsed it a hundred times with you.
When my legs are tired and it�s hard to stand
Or walk the steady pace that I would like to do,
Please take me carefully by my hand,
And guide me now as I so often did for you.

Author unknown

Sent in by Pat of Niagara.

WHY WOMEN CRY�

A little boy asked his mother. �Why are you crying?�
�Because I�m a woman,� she told him.
I don�t understand, he said.
His Mom just hugged him and said, �And you never will�.
Later the little boy asked his father, �Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?�
�All woman cry for no reason�. Was all his dad could say
The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.
Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked, �God why do women cry so easily?�

GOD SAID:

When I made the woman she had to be special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort. I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times come from her children. I gave her hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining. I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly. I have given her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart. I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.
And finally, I gave her a tear to shed.
This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed�.

�You see my son,� said God �the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart � THE PLACE WHERE LOVE RESIDES�
Jeanette

JUST ANOTHER MOTHER
EXCUSE ME!!

A few months ago, when I was picking up the children at school, another mother I knew well rushed up to me. Emily was fuming with indignation.

"Do you know what you and I are?" she demanded. Before I could answer (and I didn't really have one handy) she blurted out the reason for her question.

It seemed she had just returned from renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office. Asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation, Emily had hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a .....?" "Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother." "We don't list 'mother' as an occupation ... 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder loudly.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title like "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"And what is your occupation?" she asked. What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development." The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most important words.

Then I stared with wonder as my pompous pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire. "Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?" Cooly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters (the whole darned family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it), and the rewards are in satisfaction rather than just money." There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model (6 months) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."

Motherhood ... what a glorious career. Especially when there's a title on the door.
Sent in by Ivette

She is a word wrapped in the purest sentiment, a carress of relief in the deep of the night, and a sure guide within the darkness.
She is a gentle kiss in the morning, and a sweet kiss to watch over your sleep, she is a part of your joy and a companion to your secrets.
She is a tear in your pain, a smile at your accomplishments, and proud to see you just simple be.
She is sacrifice, hours of waiting, and a top level interete to your silences.
She is a breeze of the memory that travels over time and distance.
She is not a synonym of LOVE, she IS love, and a piece of God that lives inside you.
She is an angel come down to earth, that chose a name to which she gave a perfume of supreme beauty: MOTHER!!

This gem was sent in by Charito, of Argentina

I LOVE MY MOMMY!

Does Heaven have a phone number???
Mommy went to Heaven,
But I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down,
I need her right away,
Operator can you tell me how
To find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part,
I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too,
At night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes,
But I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her,
She will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away,
Is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long, long time
She needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her,
I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please,
Is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these BIG BIG words
I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator,
I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too,
Or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator,
I'll give them a call.

This heartrending piece was sent in by Belinda

MOTHERS' MAINTENANCE MANUAL

Many of us take better care of our cars then we do our mothers and yet we > > only expect our cars to last 5 or 6 years but we expect our mothers to >last for a lifetime.

Maybe we need a maintenance manual for mothers so we would know how to take care of them at least as well as we do our automobiles. Here are some items that might be included in such a manual.
Engine:
A mother's engine is one of the most dependable kinds you can find. She can reach top speed from a prone position at a single cry from a sleeping child. But regular breaks are needed to keep up that peak performance. Mothers need a hot bath and a nap every 100 miles, a night out every 1,000 miles, and someone to take care of the baby with a one week vacation every 10,000 miles.
Battery:

Mother's batteries should be recharged regularly. Handmade items, notes, unexpected hugs and kisses, and frequent "I love you's" will do very well! for a recharge.
Carburetor:

When a mother's carburetor floods it should be treated immediately with Kleenex and a soft shoulder.
Brakes:

See that she uses her brakes to slow down often and come to a full stop occasionally. (A squeaking sound indicates a need for a rest).
Fuel:

Most mothers can run indefinitely on coffee and leftovers, but an occasional lunch or dinner at a restaurant will really add to her efficiency.
Chassis:

Mothers run best when their bodies are properly maintained. Regular exercise should be encouraged and provided for as necessary. A change in hairdo or makeup are also helpful. If you notice the chassis begins to sag, immediately start a program of walking, jogging, swimming, or bike riding. These are most effective when done with fathers.
Tune-ups:

Mother need regular tune-ups. Compliments are both the cheapest and most effective way to keep a mother purring contentedly. Oh yes, and let's not forget to speak to mother lovingly and respectfully, especially when she reminds you to drive carefully and have a good time.

If these instructions are followed consistently, this fantastic creation and gift from God, whom we call "MOTHER", should last a lifetime and give good service and constant love to those who need her most.

Presented by Vicki of Canada

Just for this morning
Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.
Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it is.
Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry, and pick you up and take you to the park to play.
Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together.
Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles.
Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.
Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.
Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them.
Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys.
Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you.
Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.
Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.
Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favorite TV shows.
Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given.
I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms,
and mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly, and screaming inside that they can't handle it anymore.
And when I kiss you good night I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing, except one more day.............

Sent in by Jeanette, of Australia

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter's girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids (in any colour, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter doll that says, "Yes, Mummy" to boost my parental confidence, along with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don't fight, and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting, "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

And please don't forget the Play-Doh Travel Pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of pre-schoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colours and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the In-laws' house seem just like mine.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely.

It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organised crime family; or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pyjamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table, but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always, MOM.

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in you.
Sent in by SUSAN, Jeannette

Merry Christmas To My Female Friends

If I were ol' Santa, you know what I'd do
I'd dump silly gifts that are given to you
And deliver some things just inside your front door
Things you have lost, but treasured before.

I'd give you back all your maidenly vigor,
And to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.
Then restore the old color that once graced your hair
Before rinses and bleaches took residence there.

I'd bring back the shape with which you were gifted
So things now suspended need not be uplifted.
I'd draw in your tummy and smooth down your back
Till you'd be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.

I'd remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin
So you wouldn't spend hours rubbing grease on your skin
You'd never have flashes or queer dizzy spells
And you wouldn't hear noises like ringing of bells.

No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes
No searching for spectacles when they're right on your nose.
Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny
From a doctor who thinks you'rea nervous old granny.

You'd never have a headache, so no pills would you take.
And no heating pad needed since your muscles won't ache.

Yes, if I were Santa, you'dnever look stupid
You'd be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid.
I'd give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle
the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.

But alas! I'm not Santa. I'm simply just me
The matronest of matrons you ever did see.
I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I've got
But I'm due at my doctor's for an estrogen shot.

Even though we've grown older this wish is sincere
Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.

Author Unknown, Posted by Loretta