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Thursday, January 30, 2014

Happy Birthday To You Except I Have The Flu


was planning

on sending you some birthday prose, 

filled with clever similes and metaphors.

Complicated rhymes and sugar sweet phrases. 

I started like this:

You are like a piece of sunny Key Lime pie.

Excuse me. Food. No.No.No. 

Your smile like a cherry atop a hot fudge sundae. 

Oh dear. More food. Excuse me. No. No. and NO.

i am shaking and fevered 

a case of the chills

and i think i have lost

my superb writing skills

hallucinations and quivers 

under layers of clothes

i imagine your birthday

as my eyes slowly close

but as its the flu

i am up up in a flash

and down in a hurry

toss me out with the trash

i would have i would have

written you such a song

a birthday sonata

to sing all day long...,

but instead there's a humming

inside of my head

a beautiful lyric

someone else wrote instead

a song with great vintage

like a finely aged wine

is circling my brain

and chilling my spine

for the words are so simple

so tender and sweet

i've sent then instead

of my own wordy treat

may you always remember

in these words on the page

that you have my heart

any day, any age....

I have included the lyrics to this tune, originally recorded by the McGuire Sisters, but performed here on the Lawrence Welk Show in 1958, by the Lennon Sisters.  I would post the video here, but I think Mr. Welk does the intro greater justice than click the link...give a listen and then blow out your candles...

May you always walk in sunshine
Slumber warm when night winds blow

May you always live in laughter 

For a smile becomes you so

May good fortune find your doorway

May the bluebird sing your song

May no trouble travel your way

May no worry stay too long

May your heartaches be forgotten

May no tears be spilled

May old acquaintances be remembered

And your cup of kindness filled

And may you always be a dreamer

May your wildest dream come true

May you find someone to love 

As much as I love you.

(May your heartaches be forgotten)

(May no tears be spilled)

May old acquaintances be remembered

And your cup of kindness filled

And may you always be a dreamer

May your wildest dream come true

May you find someone to love

As much as I love you. 

And of THAT doesn't cut about one of my own originals, a blast from the past from one of my better days that made you smile as you blew out the candles. 

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Proof That Santa Really Really Does Read His Mail



To My Grandchild...


Christmas Eve...

Dear Child, 

In celebration of your first Christmas, I wrote you a letter...

You are a part of the universe. Look up into the sky at night, once in
awhile and remind yourself that you are tiny. The smallest piece of an
infinite puzzle just like the ones you will put together as a child. There is 
nothing more frustrating than to work long and hard solving the puzzle
only to find the last piece missing. Perhaps, just perhaps, you are the
missing piece, the one that we have all searched for under tables, 
behind refrigerators. out in the shed in the yard or deep in the sand on
the beach. Perhaps you, though tiny, are actually the answer. The
solution. The link that makes us all whole. Only time will tell. Only your
time will tell. And before you put the period at the end of your sentence, I
wish you the glory of many question marks, exclamation points, asterisks
and commas in your life story. You are the editor-in-chief and have an
eraser at the end of your pencil.

Forgive yourself mistakes and missteps. Pride yourself on honest effort, a
kindness of heart, an openness to inquiry, and stand tall among your
peers. But never ever look down, stand shoulder to shoulder with the rest
of humanity and share when you have more than enough, work hard
when you have too little, and be grateful when someone lends you a hand
to help you up. Just be sure to return the favor and always always
remember to keep a grin tucked up your sleeve and a smile in your heart.


Santa Claus


...There might be a letter waiting for you....

...if you simply take a moment to

Friday, January 10, 2014

Mothers ARE the True Mothers Of Invention










I read an article this morning that made me laugh out loud. 

Like this...HaHaHaHaHa!

In the interview, the subject stated that aliens walk amongst us and that they are responsible for all of our advances in technology. 


Well, SOMEONE had to do it. Someone had to be responsible for all those amazing technological advances, inventions and inexplicable break throughs. Though I am mostly humble by nature, I think it is TIME for me to finally take credit for:

the phonograph


TV trays

mass production

cell phone towers

the automobile
disposable diapers

remote controls

the lunar module

deep fat fryers


tin foil

baby wipes

corn removal pads


vinyl records


and on and on and on and on...

I should be in the Inventor's Hall of Fame. 

Oh, I forgot to mention...

knee high panty hose and press on nails.

Yeah, yeah yeah I see you out there rolling your eyes in disbelief. 

What you may not see, but I do, are all the mothers all over the planet nodding their heads and making fist bumps in the air. 

Right, ladies, am I right or am I RIGHT?

Take the lunar module, for example. Over the ten to fifteen years my boys entered the yearly Science Fair at their respective schools, I crafted bridges to nowhere made out of popsicle sticks, grew plants in light and in dark, taught graphs and pie charts, and measured the strength of 1 ply v.s. 2 ply toilet paper when subjected to the gravitational pull of a variety of common kitchen gadgets. I wrapped tin foil over cardboard and built electric circuits strong enough to power a flashlight bulb. 

Now, multiply my efforts by other mothers across the continent and you can hear the rocket's red Saturn roar. You think that some man taught a poor little monkey to sit strapped and still in his car seat while orbiting the earth? Then you haven't met the mothers I know who have permanent dents in their shoulders from toting a proverbial suitcase of tricks and treats for a simple trip to the local supermarket. 

We, the Mothers Of Invention, croon in tune, lullabies in the middle of the night, while holding hands in the doc's office, when walking down the hallway on the first day of school. We tap out tunes on wooden xylophones, make zoom zoom crash kaboom sound effects and tap out encouragement on the top of the dining room table while we line up the hated and detested peas on a fork and land an airplane all with a flourish. Songs. Tunes. The music of life starts on the tip of your Mother's tongue. The desire to play, record, to strum, to hum, to digitize, to harmonize, to make beautiful music begins with the 

Mmmmmm....Mmmmmm...Mmmmmm...M as in Momma

Remote controls. Yeah. An extra pair of hands during flu season. 

Yup. A maternal idea for sure. 

Radar. Sonar. Cell towers. Tracking devices. Tell the truth now. You know it in your heart. You guys have always been jealous of those invisible Mama's eyes in the back of our heads. The first time you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar, or rolling the car down the driveway without turning on the ignition, followed by the sound of a voice catching you in the act or about ten seconds before you even thought the evil thought...well?

Oh and all of you smart aleck architects and designers of skyscrapers, shopping malls, intricate innards of tunnels and rapid transit, with your hooks and pulleys, your cranes and hard hat construction zones . Not. Hand any mother a box of Legos, a set of Construx, Lincoln Logs, and tell Bob the Builder to take a seat. Not only can we build, but we teach by example, wrench in one hand, power tools in the other. Who taught you the phrase...pass me the screwdriver, no, not that one, the Phillips...please?

Your Mom did. 

And as for creativity. Artistic expression.? I'll let you in on a well kept secret. Michaelangelo's Mama Mia taught me her trick of finger painting with chocolate pudding and the importance of lining the floor with paper towels when you are painting on the ceiling. Those first words of yours, your first expression of self, appeared on the refrigerator door with a set of primary colored magnets along with the Crayola print of your dog Floppy. 

So, the next time you hear someone imply that alien life forms are responisble for all the mathematically impossible inventions and innovations known to man, just remember who taught you how to count to ten on your fingers and toes, because that's what each member of the Mother Hood knows...

Mothers plant the seed,

then cross our hands over our hearts and let you take the credit.

The Mothers of Invention...Invented You....

All we ask is that you play nicely in the sandbox, clean up your toys when finished, and respect your elders. 


Your Momma

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