Mother's Day

I know this is early but I wanted to post it (I may not be by a computer on mother's day). I gave this to my mother a few years ago and everytime I read it, it brings tears to my eyes. Please give this to your mother, sister, friend, anyone you know is a mother.....


This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with oscar mayer wieners and cherry kool-aid saying, "it's ok honey, mommy's here." Who walk around the house all night with their babies when they keep crying and won't stop.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew halloween costumes. And for all the mothers who don't. This is for all the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at football or soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "did you see me?" they could say,"of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it. This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp there feet like a tired 2 year old who wants ice cream before dinner.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't. For all the mothers who read Goodnight Moon twice a night for a year. And then read it again,"just one more time." This is for all the mothers who tought their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot. This is for all the mothers whos heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own off spring are at home. This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with a stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to pick them up right away. This is for mother's whose children have gone a stray, who can't find the words to reach them.

For the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they bleed--when their 14 year olds dye their hair green for the first time. What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 am to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

For all the mothers of the victims of all these school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat infront of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home safely. This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their childrens graves. This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation.

And mature mothers learning to let go. For the working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without. This is for you all. So hang in there. Please pass along to all the moms in your
life. "Home is what catches you when you fall--and we all fall."

The Cure - Just Like Heaven =:x

one of the best songs ever....

Björk - I Miss You =:x

On This Night...

On this night, black as raven, still as the dead, the clouds like ghosts- journey to disclose the pale moon overhead. We greet each other's dark figures secretly in the stale night air.
"Come with me," I say to you as I take you by the hand,"for the night is still young and I want to walk by the ocean to let the moon guide us across the sand."
Your hair, black as raven, as we walk on the shore. The wind begins wailing. The waves start to roar. "I want you to know I'll love you until the sky falls apart," I say. The ghosts up above start to rumble. The water, outraged, lashes out at my feet.
On this night, black as raven, still as the walking dead. The havens start to cry. The world surrounding us is lit with split seconds of day.
With this heart, black as raven, your life in my hands, I take it from you- and walk away lonely- but with the moon (my companion) and my foot prints.
On this night, black as raven, you're still and you're dead. And the clouds like ghosts- journey to disclose the pale moon overhead. And I return as sercretly as I left in the stale night air.

A Grimms' Fairy Tale

Rumpelstiltskin
By: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm

Once upon a time there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he got into a conversation with the king, and to make an impression on him he said, "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold."

The king said to the miller, "That is an art that I really like. If your daughter is as skillful as you say, then bring her to my castle tomorrow, and I will put her to the test."

When the girl was brought to him he led her into a room that was entirely filled with straw. Giving her a spinning wheel and a reel, he said, "Get to work now. Spin all night, and if by morning you have not spun this straw into gold, then you will have to die." Then he himself locked the room, and she was there all alone.

The poor miller's daughter sat there, and for her life she did not know what to do. She had no idea how to spin straw into gold. She became more and more afraid, and finally began to cry.

Then suddenly the door opened. A little man stepped inside and said, "Good evening, Mistress Miller, why are you crying so?"

"Oh," answered the girl, "I am supposed to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it."

The little man said, "What will you give me if I spin it for you?"

"My necklace," said the girl.

The little man took the necklace, sat down before the spinning wheel, and whir, whir, whir, three times pulled, and the spool was full. Then he put another one on, and whir, whir, whir, three times pulled, and the second one was full as well. So it went until morning, and then all the straw was spun, and all the spools were filled with gold.

At sunrise the king came, and when he saw the gold he was surprised and happy, but his heart became even more greedy for gold. He had the miller's daughter taken to another room filled with straw. It was even larger, and he ordered her to spin it in one night, if she valued her life.

The girl did not know what to do, and she cried. Once again the door opened, and the little man appeared. He said, "What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?"

"The ring from my finger," answered the girl.

The little man took the ring, and began once again to whir with the spinning wheel. By morning he had spun all the straw into glistening gold. The king was happy beyond measure when he saw it, but he still did not have his fill of gold. He had the miller's daughter taken to a still larger room filled with straw, and said, "Tonight you must spin this too. If you succeed you shall become my wife." He thought, "Even if she is only a miller's daughter, I will not find a richer wife in all the world."

When the girl was alone the little man returned for a third time. He said, "What will you give me if I spin the straw this time?"

"I have nothing more that I could give you," answered the girl.

"Then promise me, after you are queen, your first child."

"Who knows what will happen," thought the miller's daughter, and not knowing what else to do, she promised the little man what he demanded. In return the little man once again spun the straw into gold.

When in the morning the king came and found everything just as he desired, he married her, and the beautiful miller's daughter became queen.

A year later she brought a beautiful child to the world. She thought no more about the little man, but suddenly he appeared in her room and said, "Now give me that which you promised."

The queen took fright and offered the little man all the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her keep the child, but the little man said, "No. Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures of the world."

Then the queen began lamenting and crying so much that the little man took pity on her and said, "I will give you three days' time. If by then you know my name, then you shall keep your child."

The queen spent the entire night thinking of all the names she had ever heard. Then she sent a messenger into the country to inquire far and wide what other names there were. When the little man returned the next day she began with Kaspar, Melchior, Balzer, and said in order all the names she knew. After each one the little man said, "That is not my name."

The second day she sent inquiries into the neighborhood as to what names people had. She recited the most unusual and most curious names to the little man: "Is your name perhaps Beastrib? Or Muttoncalf? Or Legstring?"

But he always answered, "That is not my name."

On the third day the messenger returned and said, "I have not been able to find a single new name, but when I was approaching a high mountain in the corner of the woods, there where the fox and the hare say good-night, I saw a little house. A fire was burning in front of the house, and an altogether comical little man was jumping around the fire, hopping on one leg and calling out:


Today I'll bake; tomorrow I'll brew,
Then I'll fetch the queen's new child,
It is good that no one knows,
Rumpelstiltskin is my name.
You can imagine how happy the queen was when she heard that name. Soon afterward the little man came in and asked, "Now, Madame Queen, what is my name?"

She first asked, "Is your name Kunz?"

"No."

"Is your name Heinz?"

"No."

"Is your name perhaps Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The devil told you that! The devil told you that!" shouted the little man, and with anger he stomped his right foot so hard into the ground that he fell in up to his waist. Then with both hands he took hold of his left foot and ripped himself up the middle in two.

All Children Need A Laptop.....

All children need a laptop. Not a computer, but a human laptop. Moms, dads, grannies and grandpas, aunts, uncles - someone to hold them, read to them, teach them. Loved ones who will embrace them and pass on the experience, rituals and knowledge of a hundred previous generations. Loved ones who will pass to the next generation their expectations of them, their hopes, and their dreams.......

Some days...

Some days don't you just feel like this....