Marc and I are lucky enough to go to our 3rd game of the playoffs tonight. And the JAZZ MUST WIN! GO JAZZ!!
New Kids On The Block are coming to Salt Lake City on November 15th – Marc, get ready for the greatest concert you’ve ever attended…..
I used to love Sesame Street when I was little. I remember watching it all the time and I remember quite a few of the songs and skits still. Who can forget Teeny Little Super Guy, the “People In Your Neighborhood” song, and C is for Cookie? Classics. A couple of nights ago, Max decided to pull an all nighter and we were up from 1:30-4. That’s when I rediscovered Sesame Street! Why is it not on during the day while my kids are up??? All this time they’ve been watching crap like Yo Gabba Gabba… I set my DVR to record Sesame Street every day so they can watch it in the mornings. It’s even entertaining for me because I get to watch the old clips I used to love and I now actually get the “adult” humor hidden in each skit. They even had an episode of A’s Anatomy on today – it was hilarious!
Today is my friend Doug Carter’s birthday. He would have been 26 years old, but he passed away on May 15th, 1998.
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, ‘It’s okay honey, Mommy’s here.’
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can’t be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON’T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars. And that when their kids asked, ‘Did you see me, Mom?’ they could say, ‘Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making
babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn’t find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read ‘Goodnight, Moon’ twice a night for a year. And then read it again, ‘Just one more time.’
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before
they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little
voice calls ‘Mom?’ in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home — or even away at college — or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can’t find the words to reach them. For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers
of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear
down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home?
Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation… And for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us…
(Thanks Amy for sending me this. I’m not sure who wrote it, but I think we can all find something we relate to here!)