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General Prison Talk Discuss Mothers in the Prison Related forums; Perfect Mothers Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. So one day he asked God: ...
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    Mystic Mo's Avatar
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    Default Mothers

    Perfect Mothers

    Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. So one day he asked God: "They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?"
    God replied, "Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you."
    "But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile, that's enough for me to be happy."
    "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy."
    "And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that men talk?"
    "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."
    "And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"
    "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."
    "I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"
    "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life."
    "But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."
    "Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."
    At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:
    "Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."
    "Your angel's name is of no importance, you will call your angel: Mommy."

    Unknown
    They say NOBODY is perfect so just call me NOBODY

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    Only a Mother....

    Can listen to the same knock-knock joke 27 times without hollering "Nobody's Home."
    Will be a Scrabble partner with a kid who thinks "cookie" begins with "k."
    Will unwind 56 feet of toilet paper so her little darling can have the empty roll...to make a Mother's Day present.
    Knows the location of every drive-through window in town.
    Knows the exact temperature a crayon will melt on the dashboard.
    Will try to hide a leafy green vegetable in a cookie.
    Knows the secret to happy grocery shopping with a toddler ...visit the bakery aisle first and plug his lips with a big cream horn.
    Can cherish the 1,000th bleating of "Twinkle, Twinkle" from a budding violinist.
    Will show up at work wearing Mickey Mouse stickers on her posterior.
    Sees a Picaso in those scribbles decorating the fridge.
    Knows all the verses to "This Old Man."
    Can deal out emergency lunch money from the dryer lint filter.
    Can find her last good pair of panty hose hitching a wagon to a tricycle.
    Knows the sure fire way to get three kids to eat carrots ...buy two carrots.
    Is limber enough to wrestle a fitted sheet onto the top bunk bed.
    Invests fifty dollars in stale macaroons to help send the French Club to Disneyland.
    Will attempt to grow hydroponic tomatoes in one night for a last-minute science project.
    Can see across town and locate a missing shoe from her office desk phone.
    Can switch from cook to catcher in an instant.
    Has a bathtub that's filled with little yellow duckies.
    Seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.

    unknown
    They say NOBODY is perfect so just call me NOBODY

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    A Mother's Tear

    "Why are you crying?" he asked his Mom. "Because I'm a mother," she told him. "I don't understand," he said. His mom just hugged him to her and said, "You never will."

    Later the little boy asked his father why Mother seemed to cry for no reason. "All mothers cry for no reason," was all his dad could say. The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why mothers cry.

    One night, he had a dream. In his dream, he called God on the telephone. When God came to the phone the man asked, "God, why do mothers cry so easily?"

    God answered him, "My son, you see, when I made mothers, I knew they had to be special. I made their shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort. I gave them an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times come from their children and mates. I gave them a hardiness that allows them to keep going when everyone else gives up, and to take care of their families through sickness and fatigue without complaining. I gave them the sensitivity to love their children under all circumstances, even when their child has hurt them very badly. This same sensitivity helps them to make a child's boo-boo feel better and helps them share a teenager's anxieties and fears. I gave them a tear to shed. It's theirs, exclusively, to use whenever needed. It's their only weakness. It
    is a tear for mankind."

    unknown
    They say NOBODY is perfect so just call me NOBODY

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    Change

    We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
    "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
    "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations...."
    But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in child birth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
    I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
    I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That
    an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.
    I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be
    going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
    I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
    However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
    Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be
    of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
    I want her to know that a caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
    I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.
    I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
    I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the
    first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
    My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God . . .that of being a Mother.

    Unknown
    They say NOBODY is perfect so just call me NOBODY

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