Mothers say the darndest things. My plate piles high with a delightful combination of "special" experiences. What comes out of my mouth makes no sense at times - even in context. The following lines actually came out of mouth in order, (I hoped) to move forward, save my son from hazard, or get through the day. A few days ago, a woman said to me, "Mothers with special kids are chosen and very special." She looked at my son with such endearment, I wanted to ask her if she'd like to rent him for awhile.
Women started writing and talking about the odd and curious profession of motherhood. In 1960, Jean Kerr wrote the hit book, and then movie/television series, "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" Jean explained it is impossible to foresee every disaster.
"When I was younger and full of Dr. Spock I used to make the common mistake of trying to be “fair” with the children. At the peak of every crisis I would summon the entire brood from the four corners of the television set and ask stern, equivocal questions like 'Who threw the calendar in the toilet?' Naturally, nobody did."
"When I was younger and full of Dr. Spock I used to make the common mistake of trying to be “fair” with the children. At the peak of every crisis I would summon the entire brood from the four corners of the television set and ask stern, equivocal questions like 'Who threw the calendar in the toilet?' Naturally, nobody did."All mothers are special and the child they've got is perfect for them. Mine provides exceptionally delightful opportunities to test the English language and revel in shock and surprise that I actually get to string together sentences that seem to come from aliens of other galaxies.
Number 1: Don't lick the car. (I swear it looked as though he was going to take a bite.)
Number 2: Don't lick the fence.
Number 3: Don't lick the sidewalk.
Number 4: Put your seatbelt on or I will take away all your toys and everything you hold dear.
Number 5: Don't tell me no! I know no. I get no. Time to say a new word. His response: No!
Number 6: Don't drink the bubbles.
Number 7: Don't throw socks, shoes, towels or anything else every again at my head. Response: No!
Number 8: Hold my hand. See those cars there? They'll squash you like a little bug and leave you there.
Number 9: Stop terrifying the dog by playing throwing your toys at him. He'll bite you, eat all the toys, and you'll never see them again.
Number 10: After clicking the child in the seat belt : Fine. You win. You can have it all. I give up. After walking to my seat and sitting behind the wheel: Want to go for ice cream?
Spend a day in my slip-ons? Nah, but for a second, through the magic network of Blogher and the Internet, we can laugh at ourselves and share with others. The day then gets a touch more sparkle and a bit more banter to bash around.
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