Saint Padre Pio, please help my dear friend today.
Please say a quick prayer that Saint Padre Pio look after a very, very dear friend of mine today who desperately needs his help and guidance dealing with an abusive domestic issue. She needs a miracle. She needs him to please give her a sign that she is doing the right thing.
(Actually, it wouldn’t hurt to ask Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa – and anyone else up there who isn’t too busy – for help either).
I found this as I was looking for something entirely different online…I’m not sure who to thank for it – but it sure made me laugh outloud and I wanted to share!
“A Doctor was addressing a large audience in Tampa . ‘The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago.. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High fat diets can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water. However, there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten, or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?’
After several seconds of quiet, a 75-year-old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, ‘Wedding Cake.’”
YEEHAW!!!! It’s one of THOSE weeks Gotta keep reminding myself that this too shall pass. Is yours going ok?
Zbyszek turned into a lovely, snow-covered tree.
That’s what my friends told me that New Year’s Eve night many, many moons ago in Poland. He had been madly in love with my friend Grazyna – who, it turned out, was madly in love with someone else. And apparently, she told him so that night.
In his despair – and after
a few many shots of Zytnia wodka – he ran out of the house, sans coat, and into the woods behind the house we were celebrating in.
“O Matko!” wailed Grazyna as she noticed the front door left wide open, blowing snow was beginning to collect like powdered sugar in the hallway, and a gasp followed by whispers, rippled through the room.
Tonight, one of my FAVORITE businesses, CordaRoy Bean Bag Beds, will be featured on the show “Shark Tank”. You’ll recognize him as the maker of my “funnest” pieces of furniture from my posts. Don’t miss this episode! Even better, grab yourself one of his incredible chairs! GOOD LUCK, BYRON (and I still have your package I need to get out to you)!!!
Categories: accomplishments, children, family, journal, kids, life, mom, mommy, mother, parenting, stay at home mom
Sometimes too much information, to the wrong person, at the wrong time – can be a bit, well, comical – depending on how much ibuprofen you have on hand.
My youngest will be turning 4 soon. Of course in her mind she’s 14, and on an intellectual level with my oldest. So when Daughter #2, the 12 year old, asked how gemstones were measured (apparently she was momentarily bored with her new iPod), the little one’s interest was piqued and she scooted off the burgundy velvet sofa and sat down crossed-leg on her new pink bean bag chair next to us.
This morning was a “double scoop of vanilla ice cream in my bowl of coffee” type of morning.
It’s Memorial Day weekend, it’s gorgeous out, and all five of my daughters are sleeping in late. The pool, which I originally did not plan on opening, is indeed being opened this weekend despite our upcoming move – much to the girls’ delight.
And, to mix things up a bit out there, I decided to buy the girls an “icicle tent” to set up as a “clubhouse”.
The entire idea came around from a lump of clay.
Categories: children, family, funny, Humor, kids, life, mom, mommy, parenting, stay at home mom
Tags: bbq, Memorial Day, tents
During storms I like to light candles. And turn off all the lights. And enjoy feeling the raw power of Mother Nature envelope me – filling my senses.
My five girls sit by the windows, watching and waiting. Watching the raindrops plunge heavily downward, using the grass and flowers and little red wagon as trampolines. Waiting for my “OK” (for the lightning and thunder to pass) to run outside – barefoot, of course – and cover each other with globs of mud and then rinse that mud off in the torrential downpour.
I am NOT very pleased with the person who taught my youngest to jimmy locked doors.
I am particularly perturbed at that person when I’m in the shower and I never hear the door open – just the whoosh of my pink-on-pink shower curtain before the icy breeze grabs at my exposed body parts (for some reason, I can never remember to turn on the heating lamps).
“Whatcha doin’, Mommy? Can you make me some more chocolate milk?” My three year old’s big blue eyes blink as if she thinks I really am doing nothing.
“I will do it as soon as I get out of the shower, OK Fluffy-Butt?”
She shuffles out, and, as always, leaves the door ajar.
In the scorching heat of the European summer afternoons, after the rain sprinkles it’s last luminous drops of refreshing water, the young people in Poland (at least in the mountain village my mother’s family lives in), grab their baskets and quickly make their way into the woods. To “gather mushrooms”.
At least that’s what they tell their parents…
I can still remember the first time I went “mushroom gathering”. My cousin and I were cooped up playing poker in the bright yellow kitchen (I was losing miserably), and she kept pulling aside the delicate white lace curtains and sighing at the rain. All of a sudden, she grabbed my wrist and yanked me up…
Categories: family, journal, life, mom, mommy, mother, personal, stay at home mom, travel, Uncategorized, work at home