Real Mothers. . . .

Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time  to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the
sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried playdough doesn't come out of shag carpets.

Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask "why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."

Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mom...

The Images of Mother

4 YEARS OF AGE  ~  My Mommy can do anything!
8 YEARS OF AGE  ~  My Mom knows a lot!  A whole lot!
12 YEARS OF AGE  ~  My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
14 YEARS OF AGE  ~  Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
16 YEARS OF AGE ~  Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
18 YEARS OF AGE  ~ That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 YEARS OF AGE  ~  Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 YEARS OF AGE  ~  Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 YEARS OF AGE  ~  Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 YEARS OF AGE  ~  Wish I could talk it over with Mom

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 from in her eyes, Because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where her love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, But true beauty in a
woman is reflected in her soul.  It is the caring that she lovingly gives, The passion that she shows, And the beauty of  a woman With passing years-only grows!

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  emphatically.

  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 probed.

  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 and Human
  Relations."
  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 significant 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? Coolly, 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).

 But  the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers 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 10, 7, and 5.  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.
 
 

Some Jokes we like:

   Q: Why will Computers never replace Newspapers?
   A: Ever try swatting a fly with a computer?

_____

   I know Computers are changing the way we live and think.

    Yesterday a Salesman walked up to me and said: " Hi, I don't believe
    I have you in my database".

____

Back Up My Hard Drive? I can't Find The Reverse Switch!

___

 Backup not found: (A)bort (R)etry (P)anic

___

Some intersting emotics:
 

2B|^2B      Message about Shakespeare

 (-_-)       Secret smile

 <{:-)}      Message in a bottle...

 <:-)<<|     Message from a space rocket...

 (:-...      Heart-breaking message...

 <<<<(:-)    Message from a hat sales-man...

 <I==I)      A message on four wheels
 

          +            +      _   +                          _
                        +        *        +    +    _____o_
                            +   ***   +             \_____/
                       +       *****          +     /|    |\
                              *******
                 Merry Christmas & Hapy New Year
      God Bless, Dave
 
 

 Funny how a $100 "looks" so big when you take it to church,but so
small when you take it to the mall.

 Funny how long it takes to serve God for an hour, but how quickly a
team plays 60 minutes of basketball.

 Funny how long a couple of hours spent at church are, but how short
they are when watching a movie.

 Funny how we can't think of anything to say when we pray, but don't
have difficulty thinking of things to talk about to a friend.

 Funny how we get thrilled when a baseball game goes into extra
innings, but we complain when a sermon is longer than the regular time.

 Funny how hard it is to read a chapter in the bible, but how easy it
is to read 100 pages of a best selling novel.

 Funny how people want to get a front seat at any game or concert, but
scramble to get a back seat at church services.

 Funny how we need 2 or 3 weeks advance notice to fit a church event
into our schedule, but can adjust our schedule for other events at the last moment.

 Funny how hard it is for people to learn a simple gospel well enough
to tell others, but how simple it is for the same people to understand and repeat gossip.

 Funny how we believe what the newspaper says, but question what the
Bible says.

 Funny how everyone wants to go to heaven provided they do not have to
believe, or think, or say, or do anything.

 Funny how you can send a thousand 'jokes' through e-mail and they
spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.
 

 FUNNY, ISN'T IT ?