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Thursday, February 24, 2011

Pay Attention To Special Moments Like The Sweet Love of a Little Girl for Her Daddy

Childhood is fleeting. All the funny things your kids say and do, while fresh in your mind at the time, evaporate with time.

I recommend blogging to keep your memories and photos together in one place. Share them with other family members and encourage them to do the same.

Just today one of my granddaughters posted on Facebook the following conversation between herself and her daughter.

My granddaughter doesn't have a blog, so I'm posting it in mine. What a great memory. Here is the conversation:

AYLA

I'm getting the flowers for the wedding, Mommy.

SARAH

Whose wedding, Ayla?

AYLA

My wedding!

SARAH

Soooo, who do you plan on getting married to?

AYLA

My daddy, because I want to be with him forever.

Sarah will probably always remember this moment, but I can guarantee her that Ayla will produce so many more memorable moments for her and for the rest of us who love her.

One of the photos above is of Ayla holding her "Daddy Doll". To read about the Hug a Hero Doll, click

Hug a Hero Dolls for Kids Who Miss Mommy or Daddy

If you would like to read more from this author, click any of the following links:

Your Weird Dreams

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Help For Single Parents 


My Heart Blogs To You

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Wednesday, February 16, 2011

What Do You Do In Your "Spare Time"?

Like most parents raising children alone, I worked constantly. When I wasn't working, taking care of the house, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, paying bills, going to school, taking care of other children, reading, writing, doing homework, or watching my favorite movies or television programs, I was crocheting. I  usually crocheted WHILE I watched TV, because I couldn't sit still.

Hobbies, like crocheting, are creative, filling time and providing a sense of accomplishment and – for me anyway – peace. Sudoku, iPhone games, and crocheting are all peaceful activities that soothe my mind.

LUCKILY I truly enjoy crocheting, because I vowed long ago that whenever a new baby was born into our family, I would crochet an afghan for our newest member.

However, when I made the decision to crochet afghans, I had no idea HOW MANY AFGHANS I would be making throughout my lifetime.

My oldest daughter, Keeley, was already born (in 1969) when I made the decision, but because I was making one for her new sister, Lindsey, in 1981, I made one for Keeley too. The following year, 1982, their brother, Greg, joined in, and two years later, 1984, Brittney joined our household.

Three years later, Keeley gave birth to her oldest daughter, Amanda, so in 1987, I was crocheting yet another afghan – this time for my first granddaughter.

Since that long ago day when Amanda first arrived, I have been crocheting almost nonstop: Sarah, Amanda's sister, was born in 1988,  followed by their brother, Travis, in 1992. Their brother, Wesley, was born in 1997.

Taylor,  Greg's daughter, was born in 2000. Jeremy, Keeley's youngest son, was born in 2001. Audrey, Brittney's oldest daughter, was born in 2004, while Kaden, Greg's oldest son, was born in 2005.

Then I had to step up my crocheting, because in 2007, I had to make 3 afghans: two for two of my grandsons, Nolan (Brittney's son) and Zac (Greg's son), and one for my first great grandchild, Ayla, who was Keeley's first granddaughter.

In 2008, I made one for my first great grandson, Billy (Keeley's oldest grandson), and this year, 2011, I made one for my newest great grandson, Colin (Keeley's youngest grandson), born today.

One more baby will join us this year. We don't have a name or a sex for him or her yet, but I'm already working on an afghan for my youngest daughter's newest baby. The afghan above may or may not go to that baby.

(The preceding blog was written as part of the Every Day Crochet's WIP Wednesday project. If you are a creative parent who would like to participate in Every Day Crochet's WIP {Work In Progress} Wednesday, please click the link.)




And if you would like to read more by this member of The Fertile Family, I invite you to read:


Your Weird Dreams

Your Blog Connection

Help For Single Parents 


My Heart Blogs To You

Writer of Blogs 


Paranormal Minds

Product Favorites

Theresa Wiza's Blog 


My Associated Content Articles

My Xomba Articles 


Thank you for visiting!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Funny Kid Stories

Shortly after my divorce, my finances were so low, I had to look up to find the poverty level. During the depths of my depression, my parents and one of my sisters stepped forward to help me and my children survive financial disaster. I am still grateful for the love and support they showed me back then.

But more than just money got me through those difficult times – along with the love, compassion, and companionship I received from friends and family during all of those years, the other thing that pulled me out of my depressive slump again and again was laughter. And I found plenty of it – in tiny human form.

Conversations with my children, especially when they were just learning how to talk, were entertaining and educational. I enjoyed listening to their insights and observations, and I tried (with much difficulty) to control my laughter so my amusement wouldn't occur at their expense.

Laughter, due to its infectious nature and its ease in lightening even the darkest of moods, held my hand through my worst days and nights and lifted me out of despair. I sought it often.

"Seek and ye shall find." And I did. I found laughter between the tears and the struggles of raising children alone – I looked forward to even the asthma-producing laughs that sent me to the hospital again and again.

Over the years I learned to savor the moments that brought me to tears of delight instead of to tears of anguish, and I saved as many of those moments as I could record. (If only blogs had been around back then – they sit on scraps of paper and in notebooks.)

Just before the divorce, when I realized that then was as good a time as any to pursue my longed-for writing career, I gathered funny stories from friends and family, put them into an article, and asked the local newspaper to publish, Kiddy Kwips. To my surprise, my words found their way into print.

This morning, after reading a blog that reminded me of that article, I decided I wanted to bring some laughter into YOUR life by sharing the blog and the article with you.

So, sit back, relax, click the following links, read, and enjoy:

Kiddy Kwips, first published in Chicago's Southtown Economist (now known as the Southtown Star) in the mid-1980's.

Smiles to Brighten Your Parenting Day, found this morning in a blog written by Metaphysical Mom.

If you would like to read more from this author, click any of the following links:

Your Weird Dreams

Your Blog Connection

Help For Single Parents 


My Heart Blogs To You

Writer of Blogs 


Paranormal Minds

Product Favorites

Theresa Wiza's Blog 


My Associated Content Articles

My Xomba Articles 


Thank you for visiting!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Teacher and The Compliments

Every once in a while you get an email that touches you in a way that gives you pause – pause to reflect just long enough on the people you love and who love you the most.

The words I'm about to relate are copied verbatim from an email I received about a teacher who impacted the lives of her students in a profound and lasting way.

If you've already read this email, I'm not going to apologize. You might want to read it again. Snopes has verified the email as being TRUE. (Click the link for proof.)

Before I relate the email, I would like to ask teachers everywhere to give your students the same gift this teacher gave to hers. And if you're a parent, suggest that your child's teacher provide this gift to his or her students. The gift will last a lifetime.

Here is the story:

 "One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.

Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual.

On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. 'Really?' she heard whispered. 'I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!' and, 'I didn't know others liked me so much,' were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.

Several years later, one of the students was killed in Viet 
Nam and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student. She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature.

The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin.

As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her. 'Were you Mark's math teacher?' he asked. She nodded: 'yes.' Then he said: 'Mark talked about you a lot.'

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.

'We want to show you something,' his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket 'They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.'

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.

'Thank you so much for doing that,' Mark's mother said. 'As you can see, Mark treasured it.'

All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, 'I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home.'

Chuck's wife said, 'Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.'

'I have mine too,' Marilyn said. 'It's in my diary.'

Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. 'I carry this with me at all times,' Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: 'I think we all saved our lists.'

That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be.

So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late."

If you would like to read more from this author, click any of the following links:

Your Weird Dreams

Your Blog Connection

Help For Single Parents 


My Heart Blogs To You

Writer of Blogs 


Paranormal Minds

Product Favorites

Theresa Wiza's Blog 


My Associated Content Articles

My Xomba Articles 


Thank you for visiting!

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