Family Poems

FAMILY POEMS

A Letter From Mom

Dear Kids,
Don't be alarmed, the world isn't coming to an end. I am simply taking a bath. It will take about thirty minutes and will involve soap and water. Yes, I know how to swim. Even if I didn't, forcing myself to drown in a half-inch of lukewarm water is more work than I've got energy for. (Which reminds me, I'm all for science projects, but the next time you want to see if Play-Doh floats, use cold water.)
Don't panic if I'm not out right on time. I've heard that people don't dissolve in water and I'd like to test the theory. While I'm in the tub, I'd like you to remember a few things.
The large slab of wood between us is called a door. Do not bang to hear my voice. I promise that even though you can't see me, I am on the other side. I'm not digging an escape tunnel and running for the border, no matter what I said a while ago. I didn't mean it. Honest. There will be plenty of time later to tell me about your day. "Later" means at a time when I am no longer naked, wet, and contemplating bubble gum in the blow dryer. I know you have important things to tell me. Please let one of them be that you have invented a new way to blow bubbles, not a new way to add gum to your hair. Believe it or not, shouting "TELEPHONE!" through the closed bathroom door will not make the phone stop ringing. Answer it and take a message. Since Amazing Mind-Reading Mom has the day off, you'll need to write that message down. Use paper and a pencil. Do not use your brother and the laundry marker. We can't take him to town with telephone number tattoos.
Water makes me wet, not deaf. I can still tell the difference between the sound of "nothing" and the sound of a child playing the piano with a basketball. I can also hear you tattling at the top of your lungs. I'm choosing not to answer you. Don't call your dad at work and tell him I am unconscious in the bathroom. He didn't appreciate it last time. He won't appreciate it this time. Trust me.
No matter how much I would like it, water does not make me forgetful. I remember who you are and why you are grounded. No, you can't go to Shelby's house to play. No, you can't go to Shelby's house to use the bathroom. If someone is in our other bathroom, you will just have to think dry thoughts and wait. Unless you have four feet and a tail, do not think of going outside to "water" the lawn. I know the dog does it. The neighbors don't feel the need to call me when the dog does it.
Unless the house catches on fire, stay inside and keep the doors locked. Do not go outside and throw rocks at the bathroom window to get my attention. I know it works in the movies. This is reality, the place where people don't like to sit in a tub while rocks and broken glass rain in on them. Do not set the house on fire. Call me if there is an emergency.
Emergencies are:
1. Dad has fallen off the roof.
2. Your brother and/or sister is bleeding.
3. There's a red fire truck in front of our house.

Emergencies are not:
1. Dad has fallen asleep.
2. Someone on TV is bleeding.
3. There's a red pickup truck in front of our house.

One other thing: Being forced to use the last roll of toilet paper for a towel does not make me happy. It makes me sticky with little white polka dots. In the future, when the tub overflows, use a mop to clean up the water instead of every towel in the house. For my sanity's sake, let's pretend it was the tub, Okay? No, I don't want to hear the real story. Ever. Especially not while I'm standing in the pool of water you missed. By the way, all Play-Doh experiments are hereby canceled.
Be good. Entertain yourselves. Yes, you can do both at the same time. Try coloring, playing a game, or paying that stack of bills on the coffee table. I'll be out soon. Maybe.
Love, Mom
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

Mommy Brain

If you've left the crayons to melt in the car,
And forgotten just where the car keys are,
There's a perfectly good way to explain:
You see, you've come down with "Mommy Brain."

When you're not sure where the past 8 hours went,
Or whether the phone bill check's been sent,
If you've left the laundry drying in the rain,
It's just--you guessed it--Mommy Brain.

If you find yourself chatting for hours on end
About diaper prices with your cyberfriends,
You've just caught a particularly virulent strain
Of that affliction known as Mommy Brain.

If you left your bags at the grocery store
Or completely forgot what you went there for,
If you called the cat by your baby's name,
You can bet that Mommy Brain's to blame.

And if you know the words to "Goodnight Moon" by heart,
Or you study your sleeping babe like a work of art,
If you're always surprised by how time is flying,
And the thought of that first birthday starts you crying.....

It's unavoidable girls, and I feel your pain,
For I, too, suffer from Mommy Brain.
But I'll admit one thing--of this I'm sure:
I hope they never find a cure.
~~~ Author Unknown ~~~

Mean Mothers

How to be a Mean Mother
A mean mother never allows candy or sweets
to take the place of a well balanced meal.
A mean mother insists on knowing where her children
are at all times, who their friends are and what they do.
A mean mother breaks the Child Labor Law by
making her children work- washing dishes, making beds,
learning to cook and doing other cruel and unpleasant chores.

A mean mother makes life miserable for her
offspring by insisting that they always tell the truth.

A mean mother produces teenagers who are
wiser and more sensible.

A mean mother can smile with secret delight and pride
when she hears her own grandchildren call their parents "mean".

What the world needs now are more Mean Mothers and Fathers.

~~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~
The Meanest Mother In The World
Copyright© 1967 by Bobbie Pingaro
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.

Somebody Said

‘Somebody' said a mother is an unskilled laborer . . .
'Somebody' never gave a squirmy infant a bath.
'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 a mother's job consists of wiping noses and changing diapers....
'Somebody doesn't know that a child is much more than the shell he lives in.
'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 teachers, psychologists and pediatricians know more about children than their mothers...
'Somebody' hasn't invested her heart in another human being.
'Somebody' said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out"...
'Somebody' thinks a child is like a bag of plaster-of-Paris that comes with directions, a mold and a guarantee.
'Somebody' said being a mother is what you do in your spare time...
'Somebody' doesn't know that when you're a mother, you're a mother ALL the time.
'Somebody' said "good" mothers never raise their voices...
'Somebody' never came out the back door just in time to see her child wind up and 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.
'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.
'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 being a mother is a side dish on the plate of life...
'Somebody' doesn't know what fills you up.
'Somebody' said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her...
'Somebody' isn't a mother.
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

Job Description

This is hysterical. If it had been presented this way, none of us would have done it!!!!
POSITION: Mother, Mom, Momma
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. Forward this on to all the moms you know, in appreciation for everything they do on a daily basis, and let them know they are appreciated
REJOICE EVERMORE!
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

Letter To Son Starting Kindergarten

Dear George,
When your big brother and your little dog and I walked you up to school today, you had no idea how I was feeling.
You were so excited, you had packed and unpacked the washable markers and safety scissors in your backpack a dozen times.
I am really going to miss those lazy mornings when we waved your brother and sister off to school. I'd settle in with my coffee and newspaper, handing you the comics to color while you watched "Sesame Street."
Because you are my youngest, I had learned a few things by the time you came along. I found out that the seemingly endless days of babyhood are gone like lightening. I blinked, and your older siblings were setting off for school as eagerly as you did this morning.
I was one of the lucky ones; I could choose whether to work or not. By the time it was your turn, the glittering prizes of career advancement and a double income had lost their luster.
A splash in the puddles with you in your bright red boots or "just one more" rereading of your favorite book, "Frog and Toad Are Friends," meant more.
You didn't go to preschool and I'm not exactly Maria Montessori. I hope that doesn't hold you back. You learned numbers by helping me count the soda cans we returned to the store. (You could usually charm me into letting you pick out a treat with the money we got back.)
I'm not up on the Palmer method, but you do a fine job of writing your name on the sidewalk in chalk, in capitals to make it look more important. My explanation of the difference between a cuddly mood and a matey one seemed to satisfy you.
I have to admit that in my mind's eye, an image of myself while you're in school has developed. I see myself updating all the photo albums and starting that novel I always wanted to write.
As the summer wound down and more frequent quarrels erupted between you and your siblings, I was looking forward to today.
And then this morning, I walked you up the steep hill to your classroom with a picture of the president on one wall and of Bambi on the opposite.
You found the coat hook with your name above it right away, and you gave me one of your characteristically fierce, too-tight hugs. This time you were ready to let go before I was.
Maybe someday you will deliver a kindergartner with your own wide-set eyes and sudden grin to the first day of school. When you turn at the door to wave good-bye, he or she will be too deep in conversation with a new friend to notice.
Even as you smile, you'll feel something warm on your cheek. . .
And then, you'll know.
Love, Mom
~~~~ By Rebecca Christian ~~~~ (Chicken Soup for the Soul)

A Touch of Love

He was six months old and full of fun,
With a blink of an eye, he was suddenly one.
There were so many things we were going to do,
But I turned my head and he was two.
At two he was very dependant on me,
But independance took over when he turned three.
His third birthday, another year I tried to ignore,
But when I lit the candles, there weren't three, but four.
Four was the year that he really strived,
Why, look at him now, he's already five.
Now he's ready for books and for rules,
This is the year that he goes to school.
The big day came, he was anxious to go,
We rode to school, going so, so slow.
As he climbed the steps and waived goodbye,
I felt a lump in my throat and tears stung in my eyes.
Time goes so fast, its hard to believe,
That just yesterday he was here at home with me.
And tomorrow when he drives home,
And I hear his music pound,
He'll be wearing his cap and graduation gown.
So I'm holding to the moments as hard as I can,
Because the next time I look, I'll be seeing a man.
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

First Day Of School

I used to be little, but not anymore.
Tomorrow I'll get up and walk out the door.
I'm going to school--it's the first time for me.
It's great to be big, but I'm scared as can be.
My tummy's in knots. Do you want to know why?
I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, I'll cry.
When Dad leaves the school and I'm there all alone,
I'm thinking that maybe I'll want to go home.
But wait--Mommy said I'll play lots of new games,
and meet lots of friends--I can learn all their names.
The first day of school, oh there's so much to do!
There's painting and books and a big playground, too.
I used to be little, but not anymore.
Tomorrow I'll get up and walk out the door.
I'm going to school--it's my first day, you see.
It's great to be big! I'm so glad that I'm me!

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

From Tricycles to Bicycles

From Little baby bottles to big boy cups,
From tricycles to bicycles, I've watched you grow up.
I savored your laugh, and answered your cries,
I saw your love deep down in your eyes.

I cherished the squeals of earnest delight,
I'll never forget when you slept thru the night.
I taught you to walk then chased you around,
Picked up the pieces whenever you fell down.

I fixed up bruised knees, and kissed away tears,
Made sure you felt loved, and chased away fears.
Every day I watch you growing taller, and taller,
The time you let me hold you growing smaller, and smaller.

From baby bottles to big boy cups,
From tricycles to bicycles, I've watched you grow up.
I hope I've done you right by the things that I have done,
Because I couldn't ask God for a more wonderful son.
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

To Your Child

In kindergarten your idea of a good friend was the person who let you have the red crayon when all that was left was the ugly black one.
In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary halls.
In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you stand up to the class bully.
In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their lunch with you when you forgot yours on the bus.
In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck do-si-do-ing with Nasty Nick or Smelly Susan.
In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the back of the bus for you.
In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Nick or Susan, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy the social studies homework from the night before that you had.
In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and old baseball but didn't laugh at you when you finished and broke out into tears.
In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there.
In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch.
In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled you when you broke up with Nick or Susan, and found you a date to the prom.
In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pick out a college/university, assured you that you would get into that college/university, helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to the idea of letting you go...
At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated you.
The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you clean up the bottles from that party, helped you sneak out of the house when you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and Nick or you and Susan were back together, you could make it through anything, helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you were leaving behind, and finally on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance that you would make it in college as well as you had these past 18 years, and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved.
Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer, stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person, and most importantly loves you!
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

Memo From Your Child

•Don't spoil me. I know quite well that I ought not to have all I ask for ... I'm only testing you.
•Don't be afraid to be firm with me. I prefer it.. it makes me feel more secure.
•Don't correct me in front of people if you can help it. I'll take much more notice if you talk to me in private.
•Don't make me feel that my mistakes are sins. It upsets my sense of values.
•Don't be too upset if I say, "I hate you." It isn't that I hate you, but only that I need your attention.
•Don't protect me from consequences. I need to learn the hard way.
•Don't take too much notice of my small ailments. Sometimes they get me the attention I want.
•Don't nag. If you do, I shall have to protect myself by appearing deaf.
•Don't make rash promises. Remember that I feel badly let down when promises are broken.
•Don't forget that I cannot explain myself as well as I should like. This is why I'm not always accurate.
•Don't tax my honesty too much. I am easily frightened into telling lies.
•Don't be inconsistent. That completely confuses me and makes me lose my faith in you.
•Don't put me off when I ask you questions. If you do, you will find that I stop asking and seek my information elsewhere.
•Don't tell me my fears are silly. They are terribly real and you can do much to try to understand.
•Don't ever suggest that you are perfect or infallible. It gives me too great a shock when I discover that you are neither.
•Don't ever think it beneath your dignity to apologize to me. An honest apology makes me feel surprisingly warm to you.
•Don't forget how quickly I am growing up. It must be very difficult for you to keep pace with me but please try.
•Don't forget I love experimenting. I couldn't get along without it, so please put up with it.
•Don't forget that I can't thrive without lots of love. But I don't need to tell you all the time, do I?

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

Raising My Child

"If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self esteem first and the house later.
I'd finger paint more and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing seriously and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less nagging.
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I would be firm less often and affirm much more.
I'd model less about the love of power...
and more about the power of love."

~~~~ Diane Loomans ~~~~

Why We Love Kids

NUDITY I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the backseat, "Mom! That lady isn't wearing a seat belt!"
HONESTY My son Zachary, 4, came screaming out of the bathroom to tell me he'd dropped his toothbrush in the toilet. So I fished it out and threw it in the garbage. Zachary stood there thinking for a moment. Then ran to my bathroom and came out with my toothbrush. He held it up and said with a charming little smile, "We better throw this one out too then, 'cause it fell in the toilet a few days ago."
OPINIONS On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, "The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents."
KETCHUP A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup to come out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. "It's the minister, Mommy," the child said to her mother. Then she added, "Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle."
MORE NUDITY A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a little boy before?"
POLICE # 1 While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, "Are you a cop?" "Yes," I answered and continued writing the report. "My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?" "Yes, that's right," I told her. "Well, then," she said as she extended her foot toward me, "would you please tie my shoe?"
POLICE # 2 It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me & asked. "Is that a dog you got back there?" "It sure is," I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, "What'd he do?"
ELDERLY While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers, and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass.
As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, "The tooth fairy will never believe this!"
DRESS-UP A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, "Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit." "And why not, darling?" "You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning."
DEATH While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin.
Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: "Glory be unto the Faaaather, and unto the Sonnn ..... and into the hole he gooooes."
SCHOOL A little girl had just finished her first week of school. "I'm just wasting my time," she said to her mother. "I can't read, I can't write and they won't let me talk!"
BIBLE A little boy opened the big family bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. "Mama, look what I found", the boy called out. "What have you got there, dear?" With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, "I think it's Adam's underwear!"
~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

I'm Okay

The house is a mess, the dishes are dirty.
I'm too old for this stuff, I'm well over thirty.
The car is not clean, my house is a wreck,
And I've already spent next Fridays' paycheck.

The laundry needs washing, the kids are too rowdy,
And I never have time for a leisurely "howdy."
With all that I do, it's never enough,
It's never quite finished, it always looks rough.

I looked in my mirror and what did I see?
A harried old stanger, where I used to be.
The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.
Today is tomorrow, and I'm not caught up yet.

My kids are growing at such a fast pace,
That I'm missing their childhood for the sake of this race.
I work and I clean and I cook, and I say,
"hit the books, clean your room~" ther's no time for play.

Well, the Lord, for some reason, chose ME with the care,
of three of his children, but I'm rarely there!
I've GOT to slow down lest there's nothing to show
For my role as their mom when they pack up and go.

I'm only one person, but look through my door,
what appears to be one, divides into more!
I'm a chauffeur, a cook, a planter of trees,
A teacher, an umpire, a mender of knees.

Sometimes, I forget that deep down inside,
There's a lady with feelings, and last night, she cried.
She gets tired and lonely, feels taken for granted
she wants to see blooms from the seeds that she's planted.

Then, amidst all the turmoil in this mind-bending pace,
My little ones look at me - square in the face...
And just when I need it, that all in one day
Say, "MOMMA, I LOVE YOU" and then....I'm Okay!

~~~~ Rabona Gordon ~~~~

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refridgerator,
and I immediately wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray cat,
and I learned that it was a good thing to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me,
and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer,
and I knew there is a GOD I could always talk to and I learned to trust in GOD.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick,
and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing,
and I learned that those who have something should give to those who didn't.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it,
and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good,
and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes,
and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but its all right to cry.

When you thought I wasnt't looking, I saw that you cared and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons, that I need to know,
to be a good and productive person when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted to say,
"Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking."

~~~~ Mary Rita Schilke Korzan ~~~~

I Am Me

I am a child--not just any child.
the child that I am is me.
My own unique eyes, my ears, my smile,
is what most people see.

I'm gentle, kind, a mystery;
at times like a bitter pill.
Yet through my actions and my speech,
it's clear that I have a will.

The person that I am is me;
with ways some may not understand.
GOD made me SPECIAL in his sight,
and weaved me into HIS plan.

~~~~ Ethel Grinkley ~~~~

From A Working Mom

Thank you for caring for my child when I am away.
For watching over them when I can't be there.
For picking them up & holdng them close when they fall down.
For kissing their "boo-boo's" and being there when they are ill.
For loving them when they need to feel loved.
For instilling in them the godly character traits that I would want instilled.
Thank you for praising their accomplishments and for disciplining them when they need it.
For putting my child's interests before your own.
For watching them so that I can have a little time for myself.
God's gift to Mothers who work is the Caregiver.

No price, no amount can be put on the value of a caregiver who loves my child as I do.
Because of you, I can go to work and feel at peace and secure knowing that you are caring for my child.

Thank you for being there for us, A working Mom.

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

No Charge

Our little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while she was fixing supper, and he handed her a piece of paper that he had been writing on. After his mom dried her hands on an apron, she read it, and this is what it said:

For cutting the grass $5.00
For cleaning up my room this week $1.00
For going to the store for you .50
Baby-sitting my kid brother while
you went shopping .25
Taking out the garbage $1.00
For getting a good report card $5.00
For cleaning up and raking the yard $2.00
-----
Total owed: $14.75

Well, I'll tell you, his mother looked at him standing there expectantly, and boy, could I see the memories flashing through her mind. So she picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'd written on, and this is what she wrote:

For the nine months I carried you while you were growing inside me, No Charge.
For all the nights that I've sat up with you, doctored and prayed for you, No Charge.
For all the trying times, and all the tears that you've caused through the years, there's No Charge.
When you add it all up, the cost of my love is No Charge.
For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead, No Charge.
For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose, there's No Charge, Son.
And when you add it all up, the full cost of real love is No Charge.

Well, friends, when our son finished reading what his mother had written, there were great big old tears in his eyes, and he looked straight up at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you."

And then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote: "PAID IN FULL."

~~~~ M. Adams ~~~~ (Chicken Soup for the Soul)

If You Give a Mom a Muffin

If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her
she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook
("101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger").
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse
that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She'll smell something funny. She'll change the two-year-old's diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her
that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are... If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

How To Raise Mom & Dad

From Parenting Magazine – November 2003 – page 242 – by Josh Lerman

Instructions from an older sibling to a younger one
1) Always ask Daddy for candy, cookies, or lemonade. He’ll give it to you; Mommy won’t.
2) If Mommy says you can’t have candy, cookies, or lemonade, do that thing where you change your voice so you’re almost crying but not quite (Mommy calls it “whining”). Sometimes she’ll give in.
3) If you ask Daddy to be a horse or to carry you or dance with you, and he says maybe later, that means he will real soon. If he says anything about his back hurting, that means he won’t. Don’t worry – his back doesn’t really hurt – I looked once.
4) A lot of the time they’re not listening, so always say things over and over.
5) The whole green vegetable thing is pretty out of hand. So never admit that you like them, keep changing the ones you’ll agree to eat, and every once in a while claim that one of them makes you feel like throwing up.
6) If Daddy says, “Did Mommy say you can do that?” it means he doesn’t want you to do it. Always answer “yes.”
7) If you wake up and you’re lonely, call Mommy. She’ll come in and might fall asleep next to you. Daddy will just kiss you and leave.
8) If there’s a monster by the window, call Daddy – he can totally kill monsters. I don’t think Mommy knows much about them because she doesn’t even think there are any.
9) If you don’t like your mittens, you can “lose” one and they’ll buy you new ones.
10) When you get a toy with very, very small parts (like Barbie’s shoes, one-dot Legos, Playmobil cuffs, collars, and hair thingies), put some in every room of the house. Mommy and Daddy like finding this stuff because it reminds them of you.
11) Mommy and Daddy aren’t so smart. If you just scribble all over a page, they’ll tell you it’s good. This has probably already happened to you.
12) This is what a minute is: It’s the 200 or so hours between when Mommy says she’ll do something (like come play dolls with you) and when she does it.
13) Mommy and Daddy are very rich – I think they earn like $40 or $100 a year –so if they don’t buy you the toys you ask for, it’s because they are mean.
14) Whenever Mommy and Daddy hug each other, always go and get in the middle because it’s the best kind when it’s everybody hugging.

Daddy's Girl

Her hair up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates, on this Daddy's Day.

But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school, eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees, a dad who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in the back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats.

One by one the teacher called, a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare.
Each of them were searching, for a man who wasn't there.

"Where's her daddy at?" she heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one," another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her, as she smiled at her friends.
And looked back at her teacher, who told her to begin.

And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique.

"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could, be with me on this day.

And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories, he taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite.

We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him, I'm not standing all alone.

'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart.
I know because he told me, he'll forever be here in my heart"

With that her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress.

And from somewhere in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years.

For she stood up for the love, of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her, doing what was right.

And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud.

"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far.

But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day.

And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side.

"I know you're with me Daddy," to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt.

Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there placed on her desktop, was a beautiful fragrant pink rose.

And a child was blessed, if only a moment, by the love of her shining bright star.
And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far.

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

My Daddy

When I was:
Four years old: My daddy can do anything.
Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
Six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.
Eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.
Ten years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up, things were sure different.
Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.
Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.
Twenty-one years old: Him? My Lord, he's hopelessly out of date.
Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.
Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.
Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.
Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.
Fifty years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him.
Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.

~~~~Author Unknown ~~~~

Walk A Little Slower Daddy

"Walk a little slower Daddy,"
said a child so small,
"I'm following in your footsteps
and I don't want to fall.
Sometimes your steps are very fast,
Sometimes they're hard to see;
So walk a little slower, Daddy,
For you are leading me.
Someday when I'm all grown up,
You're what I want to be;
Then I will have a little child
Who'll want to follow me.
And I would want to lead just right,
And know that I was true,
So walk a little slower, Daddy,
For I must follow you."

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~

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