http://melodymaker.posterous.com/the-reason-some-girls-stay-single-very-funny
The above link is of a guy leaving a message for a girl he wants to go out with.
My world
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're all together ooky,
The Addams Family.
Their house is a museum
Where people come to see 'em
They really are a scream
The Addams Family.
(Neat)
(Sweet)
(Petite)
So get a witches shawl on
A broomstick you can crawl on
We're gonna pay a call on
The Addams Family.
Mysterious and spooky,
They're all together ooky,
The Addams Family.
Their house is a museum
Where people come to see 'em
They really are a scream
The Addams Family.
(Neat)
(Sweet)
(Petite)
So get a witches shawl on
A broomstick you can crawl on
We're gonna pay a call on
The Addams Family.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Another quote I might have already posted.
"I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element [in my home]. It's my personal approach that creates the climate. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher [a mother], I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated...and a child humanized or de-humanized.
Dr. Haim Ginott
Also, if you like Mr. T, you'll love this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_rBidCkJxo&sns=fb
"I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element [in my home]. It's my personal approach that creates the climate. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher [a mother], I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated...and a child humanized or de-humanized.
Dr. Haim Ginott
Also, if you like Mr. T, you'll love this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_rBidCkJxo&sns=fb
Monday, May 9, 2011
I think I have already posted this, but if I have it is worth reposting.
The Invisible Mother ... 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'm 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." Some days I'm a crystal ball; "Where's my other sock?" "Where's my phone?" "What's for dinner?" I was certain that these were the hand that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature, 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. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she 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: "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:
1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals ... we have no record of their names.
2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend 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." 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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." 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 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, then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built 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, he'd say, "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 mothers!!
Happy Mother's Day yesterday.
The Invisible Mother ... 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'm 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." Some days I'm a crystal ball; "Where's my other sock?" "Where's my phone?" "What's for dinner?" I was certain that these were the hand that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature, 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. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she 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: "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:
1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals ... we have no record of their names.
2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend 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." 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. 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, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand 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." 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 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, then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built 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, he'd say, "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 mothers!!
Happy Mother's Day yesterday.
Monday, May 2, 2011
All the news today is about the death of O s a m a B i n L a d e n. It is good that he is no longer among us. I don't know if that will weaken or strengthen the resolve of those who believe as he did and followed him. I'm not sure how to put into words what I am trying to say. I guess it is this: I'm sure his birth must have been a joyous occassion for so many. Who could have foreseen the way his life would play out. His parents must have had hopes and dreams for him. Who knows, maybe they would have been proud of the extremist views and actions that he had/did. Maybe that is where he got his views and the apple didn't fall far from the tree. He came to earth pure and innocent as we all do and he left a hero and martyr to many, but hated (and hunted) by many more. How would it be to have millions and millions of people glad that the child you gave birth to is dead?
God protect our soldiers (and their families).
God protect our soldiers (and their families).
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