This is something I just got in my email, which I had to share with you all. Read it and get a new perspective on the new millenium’s parenting - which suddenly doesnt seem so great after all.

TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930’s 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and 70’s !!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn’t get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank koolade made with sugar, but we weren’t overweight because WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING !

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day and we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo’s, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD’s, no surround-sound or CD’s, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms…….

WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned

HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

If YOU are one of them . . . CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as
kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good

And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn’t it?!

The quote of the month is by Jay Leno:

“With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks….Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?”

[tags]kids, growing up, survival, jay leno[/tags]

One of the best things I can recommend to each and every Mom out there, is to get a few days of “de-Momming” every year, away from the children, away from the spouse, and with your best girlfriends. If you havent done it yet, I urge you to to put all guilt aside and trust your kids with their Dad (who honestly will do an OK job, I swear). You’ll emerge not just refreshed but you’ll regain some of your old self too - B.C. (before children).

The day after Christmas, I did just that. It was the first time I ever did it - leave the kids alone with my husband and actually go on a mini-holiday without my young family. I was guilty and kind of nervous when I got on the plane, and when I got to the island, I was actually still wondering what the hell I was doing, leaving the 3 people who I loved most.

I met up with my two best girlfriends from high school, both of whom live miles away from each other, and from me. If we’re lucky, we get to see each other once a year, and not for very long, so five days together were a rare pleasure indeed.

On the first night there, one of the girls sweetly treated me to the spa for the best two-hour deep tissue massage I have had in my life. I dont know if it was the therapist’s expert hands, the sublime rose petal bath afterwards, or the open-air treatment villa we were in, but I was more relaxed than I had been in a very long time. After the spa, we met up with friends at beach bar and sipped “sea breezes”, chatting until the wee hours.

The rest of the trip took the same trend - sunning, swimming, listening to music, eating (lots of seafood!), drinking cocktails (not quite the same amounts as my B.C. days, but still a great deal more than usual!), shopping at the beach boutiques and chatting, chatting and more chatting. It was heaven!

Yes, it was admittedly a bit strange at first to switch off from Mommy-mode, not having to think about what the kids were doing, what they were eating next, or what I could do to keep them busy without having to resort to the DVD player (and you could say the same train of thought applied to my hubby). In fact, there wasn’t much thinking at all, which was just perfect.

So five days later (I extended a day, fully supported by my hubby - aren’t I lucky?), I returned home, tired from the plane and car journey, but feeling absolutely great. I discovered that sometimes our old selves tend to get lost in being a Mom, and that a few days on the beach with the girls is all it takes to regain some of it again.

[tags]beach holiday, girls trip[/tags]

Happy New Year!!!

Its that time of year again to think of one’s New Year’s Resolutions, and though I have a small list of personal changes I’d like to make, the one resolution I have as a parent, would be something I learned from my favourite parenting advisor, Ellen Braun and her Raising Small Souls website.

It basically tackles the subject of REACTING vs REFLECTING which I had honestly never thought of before, and when I read it, I was struck by its truth. I swear, parents should really have a school where they can learn how to do things right. In the 5 years I’ve been a parent, I hate to admit it, but I’ve made many, many mistakes. Ok, its not exactly a crime as we’re all allowed to make mistakes, but somehow it just matters so much more when it comes to your kids and the consequences which could be carried by them for the rest of their lives.

So this year my goal is to be a Mom who REFLECTS rather than REACTS. No small task, Ellen likens to learning a new language - tough, but so worth it when you finally become fluent. Also, as rightly commented on my another Mom, we should all practice this on our husbands as well! Read on to see how Ellen explains how important this is.

When a child hears his emotions reflected back to him, he is able to accept, trust, and respect his own feelings. That is the essence of confidence. When a child has the ability to base ideas and decisions upon his thoughts and feelings, he is self-aware and possesses a healthy level of self-esteem.

Imagine with me for a moment that you have just arrived home from a party.

“Honey, I’m so hungry, do we have anything good to eat?” you ask your spouse.

“Hungry!” Spouse exclaims, “How could you possibly be hungry; you ate tons of at the party!”

Or, how about this scenario:

“Sweetheart,” you begin as you turn towards your spouse to express yourself, “I’m really very hot. Would you lower the thermostat please?”

“Hot!” Spouse practically shouts, “I’ll tell you what hot is- go outside in the sun, then you’ll feel hot! When you come back inside, you’ll realize that it’s very comfortable in here.”

—–

Well, how did you feel about that? Did you feel understood? Did you feel that your feelings had been taken into account in a meaningful way? Or, were you left wondering whether your emotions were actually real? Perhaps you were not actually hungry? Could it be that the heat was simply a figment of your imagination? Or, did you wonder whether your spouse could begin to understand you after all?

—–

Imagine traveling in the mini-van with your daughter. “I’m hungry!” she whines during a long stretch of the highway.

“You are not hungry, darling,” You respond to your daughter, “you just ate dinner.”

Daughter has two choices right now:

Choice #1: Believe Parent; if my parent says that I’m not hungry, then that must be the fact. The rumbling in my belly must be my imagination. Unconsciously, the thought process will travel even further: My feelings may not be real. I’ve got to check with my parents to see if my feelings are truly accurate. I am not capable of trusting my own intuition and emotions.

Choice #2: Not believe Parent; if my parent says that I’m not hungry, that means he/she does not know what he is talking about! My own feelings will guide me to knowledge of the truth. Unconsciously, the thought process will travel down a road that looks like this: My parent does not understand me at all. He/she has no idea who I am or what I am feeling.

—–

I recall speaking with two different friends recently on a day that I was suffering from stomach problems.

Friend A said to me, “Why don’t you try this pill or that pill?”

Friend B empathized with, “Oh, Ellen, it’s so hard to get anything done when your stomach is out of sorts… it’s as though the whole you is out of sorts, but your mind is working fine and you want to do things, you just feel like you’re weighed down.”

Obviously, Friend A meant well. However, it was Friend B who reflected my feelings that made me feel comforted.

—–

Like learning a new language, switching gears from reacting to your children’s expressions to the new method of reflecting their inner feelings, will take a bit of time. In the beginning, you may feel awkward with this manner of conversation, yet over time, it will become a natural and habitual way of response.

[tags]New Years Resolutions, parenting tips, parenting advice[/tags]

One of my resolutions for the New Year is to be a better Mom. Better, in that I am more conscious of how I am raising my kids to be happy, well-rounded and responsible adults. I have discovered that raising a brat is by far the easier way. Simply because all we have to do is give them what they want as opposed to thinking things through and giving them only what they need.

Heres a thoughtful letter written by a Filipino father to his daughter on the subject. It was printed in Business World Magazine.

How Brats Are Created

Who says only valuable jewelries can become heirlooms? My daughter showed me a copy of a letter written by her friend’s Dad on her 13th birthday. A few months after he wrote it, he died of a heart attack. Today, this letter is regarded as a family heirloom, shared not just with the immediate members of the family, but shown proudly to relatives and friends alike.

I felt the message in this beautiful letter should be shared with as many people as possible. So I asked my daughter if her friend - the letter’s addressee-would allow me to reprint it in BusinessWorld. She said there shouldn’t be a problem, except that a note should probably precede the letter asking the readers to share this with their young married children. Hah! a not-so-subtle inference that BusinessWorld readers are not exactly “young parents” anymore.

So, dear readers, do share this letter with your young married children. They will certainly find this letter - as I did - a very insightful treatise on how brats are created.

“Daughter Dearest Happy 13th Birthday!

“When you came to this world 13 years ago, you brought your Mom and I a lot of joy! We’ve always wanted a daughter and God in His wisdom gifted us with you.

“This is not to cast any aspersions at your four older brothers; they are also a great blessing and we love them very much, but boys are boys, and I look forward to the day when I am old and gray to have you by my side. I can’t see this happening with your brothers; you know what I mean, as we have talked about this at the dining-room table many a time.

“You have also heard me say that we are gifted with a lot of material wealth. That’s something we should be very grateful to the Lord about, but we should be aware that this has been loaned to us, as you too are loaned to us by God and that we will be asked to give a full accounting when our day of reckoning comes.

“The reason for this letter is to warn you about one big, big danger you and your brothers may face in the next few years. I have seen it happen in other families. I don’t want to see it happen here.

“I am referring to having you guys grow up as brats!” ‘Brat-manship’ is the process one has to go through to become a brat!

“Unfortunately, it is an ailment imposed by parents! They are the creators of the brats!

“In their desire to try to save their children from the difficulties they have been through, they do whatever possible to shield them from this. Little do they realize, that it is precisely these difficulties that have made them successful. Their love for their children may make them overprotective. They may even prevent them from taking public transportation. They come up with all sorts of rationalizations, going by public transportation is not safe, the buses are too crowded, the fumes on the road are bad for ones health, and so on!

“They mean well, but in the process, they deprive their children of what it really means to live in a city like Manila which is comprised of two strata of society - the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots!‘ And sad to say some of ‘the haves’ live in their little world. Unaware of that sampaguita vendor, drenched in the rain, so that her siblings may get a least one meal that day.

“The other day, I was with an elderly wise gentleman, we are at the Polo Club waiting for his car. There was a girl, about your age. She, too, was waiting for her car. When her vehicle got there, she jumped into the front seat, and as she did, tossed her beautiful pair of riding boots into the back seat. She then asked the driver if her Mom was home. ‘Wala po! Nagma-mah jong (She’s not home. She’s playing mah jong),’ came the reply! The car drove off.

“My friend turned to me and said, ‘There is an example of the under- privileged rich.’ Then he followed with, ‘They have everything and they have nothing.’

“This incident, short as it was, left me with a deep impression. I guess this is why I am writing this letter.

“Your Mom and I have tried to raise you kids to realize that our country is made up of the very rich and those who may not even have enough to have one decent meal a day. I hope you never lose sight of this. This is why we
have taken it upon ourselves to adopt a squatter family during Christmas and share with them some of some things to make their Christmas more meaningful.

In the process, we hope that you and your brothers will appreciate the conditions we live in. In the process, I hope that you always have compassion or these lesser fortunate. So that next time you see that sampaguita vendor knocking at our car window drenched in rain you do not get annoyed, but instead pull out your wallet and share with her in a small way your allowance.

“You will notice your brothers take public transportation to go to UP. It’s not that we can’t afford another car; we can’t afford for them to grow up thinking that its part of their ‘birth right’ to be in the ruling class.

“This is why we insisted that you do your bed in the morning, and to pick up your own toys and clothes, rather than have a yaya trailing you.

“And I could go on and on. As you are apt to say, ‘You catch my drift!’ “When you feel you are not getting enough money in your allowance, or get new shoes like your friends always had or the latest fad of Guess jeans, take this letter out and reread what I have written.

“We love you far too much to create a brat!

“Your Loving Father”

[tags]raising kids, spoiled brat, father[/tags]

Here is a wonderful Christmas Story on the meaning of Christmas from the eyes of one little girl and her family.

A very Christmas to you and your families!!

A Christmas Story

It was the year 1968. That year was an exceptionally hard year in every way. Pop was laid off due to too much snow in the woods. He was a logger. Roads were impassable and snow lay thick in the mountains. We knew there would be no Christmas. Mom had told us there simply was no money. Times were tough. We didn’t have money even for our very basic needs.

That was the year the guy from the fire department brought my sick baby brother some medicine in his four wheel drive. That was the year the snow piled up relentlessly night and day. The wind blew it under the window sills. We slept each night downstairs by the fireplace
trying to stay warm. The entire house was closed off by blankets in doorways and masking tape on all the windows. Rugs were shoved under loose fitting doors so not a breath of cold air could get in.

That was also the year that food was scarce for man and beast. Earlier in the fall, the cold and scarcity of food drove the bear into our orchard to eat any remaining plums and apples that we hadn’t canned or processed in some way. We trapped those bears, tanned their hides to use for rugs, and ate the meat to fill our bellies. Christmas dinner that year was going to be Bear Roast. There were nine of us kids, and food was scarce.

The fires were kept burning night and day. My baby brothers were set on the lids to the warming ovens above the kitchen stove and held there while they dangled there feet over the old Home Comfort. Its cheery warmth not only heated our kitchen, but it also kept their tiny
toes warm.

That was also the winter that mom ran out of formula for the baby. Not knowing what to do, we prayed that God would send our baby formula. He was allergic to milk and too young to . That day a man handed
mom an envelope of gospel tracts. There hidden in the tracts was a five dollar bill. God had answered our prayers. The baby would now get his formula.

I had only one wish that Christmas. I had seen a beautiful doll bed in the department store window. I wanted it so badly, but I knew it was way too much to ask. I could dream though, and dream I did. Mom knew how badly I yearned for a doll bed, so one day shortly before
Christmas she set about to make me that coveted gift. Taking two cardboard boxes she turned the one upside down and set the other on top. She fastened them to each other then lined them with fabric and made a little pleated skirt to cover the cardboard box underneath. She knew that on Christmas morning I would be the happiest child for miles around.

The air was filled with secrecy that Christmas, as we all tried to make each other gifts. Buttons were strung onto strings, small jars were filled with filberts to rattle at the babies, nuts piled high behind the stove in gunny sacks were cracked and sugared for treats. Once again Bear meat was on the dinner menu. But once again God had other plans.

The day before Christmas a big red truck lumbered down the lane to our house. It was the Fire Chief! Whatever was happening? Why had they come? They had chained up the vehicle to get up the snowy roads. Maybe they were bringing medicine. One year the fire department brought aspirin to all the babies on the mountain because families couldn’t get into town. But no! Wait! There were other men with him. We watched as the firemen jumped down and began unloading gifts from the truck. They piled them on to the front porch while we watched from the window. There were lots of boxes. The excitement was more than we
could bear. Beautifully wrapped gifts with sparkly bows were lined up on the porch.

Mom opened the front door to ask what this was all about. A fireman filled her arms with a box overflowing with food. “Merry Christmas,” he called over his shoulder as he stomped back through the snow for more things. My sisters and I were squealing and excitedly running from window to window in the hopes of seeing better. The babies peeked out from behind mom’s skirt.

Finally the last box was unloaded and our porch was filled with food and gifts. Everything we needed for a complete Christmas dinner was brought by that fire department. Mom was crying as she thanked the men. At eight-years-old I didn’t see what there was to cry about. I
mean one minute there was no Christmas, the next we all had gifts and a Christmas dinner! At the time I knew nothing of what lies in a mother’s heart when God so completely and wonderfully answers her prayers for Christmas for her babies.

But the firemen weren’t done. They had gone back to the truck, and now they were pulling out a huge box with a candy cane striped swing-set inside. Our joy was beyond imagination. We had spent many hours swinging in homemade swings in the apple trees, but we had never seen or dreamed of anything as lovely as this red and white swing set. Our
little hearts could hold no more.

That year was the best Christmas we ever had. The turkey from the fire department filled the place with mouthwatering smells. Gifts were opened and nowhere was there greater joy than that which was found in the old farmhouse that day.

That night, as the snow continued to blow across the dark hills, nine children lay tucked in their beds on the dining room floor. The fire gave the room a soft glow. Over in the old green chair mama rocked the baby and fed him warm formula while Pop made his bedtime rounds,
stoking the fire and checking windows and doors for any loose masking tape that would let the cold east wind inside.

That was the night that the firemen brought Christmas to little children on a cold mountain. That was the night a new doll, brought from the fire department, slept all snuggly warm in its cardboard box beside a little girl who had prayed for a Christmas.

That was the night the heavens bent low.

That was the night the angels sang.

I will forever be grateful to the men who sacrificed their time that cold Christmas Eve. I have never forgotten their labor of love and the joy they brought to our hearts. Thank you so much for bringing Christmas to our house that year. You will never know what that meant to all of us! May God bless you all!

[tags]Christmas, Holidays, Christmas dinner, Christmas Story[/tags]

Here it is, heart-wrenching and hilarious - what kids around the world have been emailing Santa about:

I just wish that the parents of a friend of mine really loved him (which they don’t),as he now lives in an Aid Center for kids and I want him to get out of there !
- Diana, 14, Arad, Romania.

my dad is on disability my mommy can’t work because of my sister and mommy says we not to expect much for chirstmas. but my sister needs a new bed and new clothes. and a new bike. but mommy says we have each other and that is what is important.
- Toni, 8, Indianapolis, Indiana.

Santa I am hearing impaired and had a dog named kip that would let me know if doorbell was to ring, wake me up when the alarm goes off, and much more. We were told that he was not doing everything he was supposed to do so hedaquarters in Michigan took him to help train him more. If he does not do good he will never come back to me. He have been very good up there so far and I hope and wish for him to come back. I would like for us to spend Christmas together because he had made a difference in my life. I know this may be asking too much, but I thought with hope and faith my dog may come back home. Thank you
- Annie, 18, Pensacola, Florida.

You said you might not have enough room in your sled for all the toys….I asked my mommy to get you a new-bigger sled for your Christmas present. I hope she gets it to you before Christmas!
- Alex, 4, Volga City, Iowa.

Gee it’s hard being six. I hope seven is easier?
- Damian, 6, Adelaide, Australia.

Santa, I do not have an email address of my own so I am using my brother’s email address. Please don’t get our presents mixed up though
- Lorna, 7, Essexville, Michigan.

Please bring something special for my Marmo. This is her first Christmas in heaven. We will miss her jello at Christmas dinner.
- Elizabeth, 6, Belfast, United Kingdom.

Santa, please be careful bringing my puppy down the chimney, if she doesn’t fit please make other arrangements to get her to me, do you have special helpers for precious pet deliveries?
- Scotty, 8, Fresno, California.

Santa, my computer is missing. For christmas I asked for some new computer things like what my daddy has and I was hoping that maybe your elves just borrowed it to add that new stuff to make it run gooder but if they didn’t maybe somebody stole it and you could bring me a new one?
- Matthew, 8, Franklin, New Hampshire.

I hope that you get every house in the whole Unavicers.Maybe your wife should do the work for you.
- Jessica, 8, DeWitt, New York.

[tags]Christmas, Holidays, Letters, Santa[/tags]

One of the things my husband and I have done for our children is to start saving for them. We opened bank accounts for each of them, and when their piggybanks are full (filled by us, where we’ve gotten into the practice of emtpying out our change every day into them) , periodically take the change to the bank and deposit it into their accounts. When our son did a television commercial and got paid quite handsomely for it, we put that in as well.

So all well and good, but how about their Emotional Bank Account? When I first learned about that concept, I was extremely concerned whether I was making enough regular deposits there as well. After all, what good would a fat account full of money be to them in 20 years time if emotionally they were bankrupt? I’d hate to think it, but that money we saved for them would probably go to drugs or alcohol.

So here is HOW to get that emotional bank account filled starting today, courtesy of Ellen C. Braun:

An emotional bank account? Think of it this way: When your checking account is overdrawn, it is hard for you to give away money. Similarly, people have emotional bank accounts that must be sufficiently full for them to give away- not money, but time, personal responsibility, and good behavior.

Adding regular “deposits” in your kid’s emotional bank account is smart investing in their future, so they will feel secure in “withdrawing” or giving back to you in the form of respect and proper obedience of your rules. A child who feels that he is running a “negative balance” will gain pleasure from making Mom or Dad get angry. In a backwards psychological way, the power the child yields over his parents in driving them to extreme frustration can fill an otherwise empty emotional bank account. It’s the classic case of the child who would rather get negative attention from their parents than no attention. Being yelled at is better than being ignored, as it fills his emotional account with a “bad currency” rather than leaving it “in the red”.

Here are some suggestions of “deposits” to bump up the balance in your child’s emotional bank account:

1) Give him a gift for no reason.
2) Place a note that says, “I love you” in her lunch bag.
3) Let him choose (from options you provide) the next family vacation.
4) Spend time alone with her at a location of her choice
5) Truly listen when she speaks to you
6) Believe in him, and his ideas.
7) Do a surprise favor for her.
Give him specific and truthful complements.

Making regular deposits in your children’s emotional bank accounts will yield dividends beyond any those of the highest-performing stock on the market!

[tags]Bank accounts, emotional bank account[/tags]

I’m not one who enjoys going through forwarded emails, but this particular one sent to me by my Mother I just had to share in this blog. Its a tear-jerker alright, but something I think other Moms out there will appreciate. One thing I do know is that until you become a Mom yourself, you’ll never truly understand how much your Mother loves you.

” The young mother set her foot on the path of life. “Is this the long way?” she asked. And the guide said: “Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it.. But the end will be better than the beginning.”

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, “Nothing will ever be lovelier than this.”

Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, “Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come.”

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children,” A little patience and we are there.” So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, “Mother, we would not have done it without you.”

And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, “This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I ‘ve given them strength.”

And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: “Look up. Lift your eyes to the light. ” And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, “This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God.”

And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she was little and bent. But her children were tall and strong, and walked with
courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And mother said, “I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end
is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them.”

And the children said, “You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates.” And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates
closed after her. And they said: “We cannot see her but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence…….”

Your Mother is always with you…. She’s the whisperof the leaves as you walk down the street; she’s the smell of bleachin your freshly laundered socks; she’s the cool hand
on your brow when you’re not well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she’s crystallized in every tear drop. She’s the place you came from, your first home; and
she’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time, not space… not even death!”

[tags]Mothers, Inspiration, Mother’s Love[/tags]

Before I blog more about our Thailand family holiday, I just had to share this funny email I received, written by children - don’t you just love the honesty of kids???

Why God Made Moms

(Answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions!!)

Why did God make mothers?

1. She’s the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?

1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?

1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in
the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother & not some other mom?

1. We’re related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s moms like me.

What kind of little girl was your mom?

1. My mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?

1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your mom marry your dad?

1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn’t have her thinking cap on. ( My Mom said that)

Who’s the boss at your house?

1. Mom doesn’t want to be boss, but she has to because dad’s such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What’s the difference between moms & dads?

1. Moms work at work and work at home & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power ’cause
that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend’s.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your mom do in her spare time?

1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your mom perfect?

1. On the inside she’s already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?

1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

[tags]Moms,God, Kids answers[/tags]

Moving into more inspirational topics, I recently received an email from one of my Mom groups, urging me to look at this short video. It was called “Animal School” from a website called Raising Small Souls.

I watched it and teared. It was truly a beautiful video about a child’s individuality. I urge you to watch it, whether you are a parent or not as I think it applies to us all. As a parent, I am always looking for ways to learn how to be the best parent I can be, and so I eagerly signed up for the website’s newsletter whose message seemed to be more than the usual developmental stuff you see on Baby Center (not that I dont think thats useful too, it is, but its not enough), but it touches on parenting on an emotional level too.

“Raising Small Souls” was created by a mom-of-three, Ellen Braun, and her husband who is a doctor amd principal at a vocational school for at-risk teenagers. Her ideas and notes on parenting accumulated throughout the years and this site, filled with all kinds of useful parenting advice, was born. Another nice thing I noticed was the personal touch her site had, which is not common on the web these days. After I registered for the newsletter, I got an email from Ellen, welcoming me, and saying:

“When you have a free moment, feel free to tell me about your child or children, and the most pressing parenting question on your mind. I will do my best to address your question in an upcoming issue of RaisingSmallSouls’ newsletter.”

She then apologized in advance if she wasnt able to respond right away, which is not surprising, but the whole thought was very nice, I thought. Parenting is a very personal and emotional job, and I await her newsletters with much anticipation.

As Ellen says:

“If I help just one family raise happier and emotionally healthier children, then this site has accomplished its goal,I hope that family is yours.”

How wonderful is that?

[tags]parenting advice, emotional parenting,parenting tips, raising small souls[/tags]