Reflections of a Mother - Our Holiday Site
Reflections Of A Mother
Reflections of a Mother PoemI gave you life, but cannot live it for you.
I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn.
I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it.
I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe.
I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you.
I can buy you beautiful clothes, but I cannot make you beautiful inside.
I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you.
I can give you love, but I cannot force it upon you.
I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish.
I can teach you respect, but I cannot force you to show honor.
I can advise you about friends, but cannot choose them for you.
I can advise you about sex, but I cannot keep you pure.
I can tell you the facts of life, but I can't build your reputation.
I can tell you about drink, but I can't say "no" for you.
I can warn you about drugs but I can't prevent you from using them.
I can tell you about lofty goals, but I can't achieve them for you.
I can teach you about kindness, but I can't force you to be gracious
I can warn you about sins, but I cannot make you moral
I can love you as a child, but I cannot place you in God's family.
I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God.
I can teach you about Jesus, but I cannot make Jesus your Lord.
I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.
I can love you with unconditional love all of my life... and I will!!!
Poem: Reflections of a Mother
YOUR MOTHER IS ALWAYS WITH YOUYour mother is always with you
She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.
She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.
She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She's crystallized in every tear drop.
She's the place you came from, your first home.
She's the map you follow with every step that you take.
She's your first love and your first heart break...
and nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, Not space... Not even death...
will ever separate you from your mother
You carry her inside of you
Your mothers mothers love
Your mother is always with you
Reflections of a Mother Poem on Our Holiday Site.
A WOMAN'S RANDOM THOUGHTSSkinny people p--- me off! Especially when they say things like, "You know sometimes I just forget to eat." Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name, and my keys. But I've never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.
A friend of mine confused her valium with her birth control pills. She had 14 kids, but she doesn't give a darn.
They keep telling us to get in touch with our bodies. Mine isn't all that communicative but I heard from it the other day after I said, "Body, how'd you like to go to the six o'clock class in vigorous toning?" Clear as a bell my body said, "listen b----... do it and die."
The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing (and then they marry him.)
I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, smoking too much, drinking too much, driving too fast, and impulse buying. Are they kidding? That is my idea of a perfect day.
I know what Victoria's Secret is. The secret is that nobody older than 30 can fit into their stuff.
"If men can run the world, why can't they stop wearing neckties? How intelligent is it to start the day by tying a noose around your neck?"
Reflections of Being A MOMOne day a man comes home from work to find total mayhem at home. The kids were outside still in their pajamas playing in the mud and muck. There were empty food boxes and wrappers all around. As he proceeded into the house, he found an even bigger mess. Dishes on the counter, dog food spilled on the floor, a broken glass under the table, and a small pile of sand by the back door. The family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing, and a lamp had been knocked over.
He headed up the stairs, stepping over toys, to look for his wife. He was becoming worried that she may be ill, or that something had happened to her. He found her in the bedroom, still in bed with her pajamas on, reading a book.
She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.
He looked at her bewildered and asked "what happened here today?"
She again smiled and answered, "You know everyday when you come home from work and ask me what I did today?"
"Yes", was his reply."
She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it!"
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