A 12 cup pot of coffee, and it's mine! All mine!!
- Thread starter Neftoon_Zamora
- Start date
Neftoon_Zamora
Black is so slimming.
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2002
- Posts
- 2,788
.
Last edited:
Neftoon_Zamora
Black is so slimming.
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2002
- Posts
- 2,788
.
Last edited:
Neftoon_Zamora
Black is so slimming.
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2002
- Posts
- 2,788
.
Last edited:
islander01
Nipple Inspector
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2001
- Posts
- 5,033
why does yank bucks sound so dirty?
grope
Neftoon_Zamora
Black is so slimming.
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2002
- Posts
- 2,788
.
Last edited:
islander01
Nipple Inspector
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2001
- Posts
- 5,033
( making coffee)
Morning all,
Carrie I think every one was stimulated enough with alll the groping yesterday.
Morning all,
Carrie I think every one was stimulated enough with alll the groping yesterday.
islander01
Nipple Inspector
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2001
- Posts
- 5,033
Ok Damn it all
(streaks through thread)
Woohooo!!!
(streaks through thread)
Woohooo!!!
Here is a special mug for all the mom's today...http://d21c.com/AnnesPlace/Spec/MD16.gif
http://d21c.com/AnnesPlace/Spec/MD4.gif
http://d21c.com/AnnesPlace/Spec/MD4.gif
Bitenips
Naughty Little Thing
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2003
- Posts
- 36,742
Happy Mother's Day
This is for the mothers who have sat up all
night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf
laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid
saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end
soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work
with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their
blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make
cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the
mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies
they'll never see. And the mothers who took those
babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections
are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns
on metal bleachers at football or soccer games
instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so
that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they
could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for
the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their
kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair
when they stomp their feet and scream for ice
cream before dinner. And for all the mothers
who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with
their children and explained all about making babies.
And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just
couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon"
twice a night for a year. And then read it again.
"Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to tie their shoelaces before they started
school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro
instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically
when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even
though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even
away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids
to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be
just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from
the school nurse an hour later asking them to please
pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone
astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed
when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and
the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in
horror, hugging their child who just came home from
school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children
to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience?
Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a
shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or
daughter disappear down the street, walking to school
alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from
bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of
a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when
you just want to hear their key in the door and
know they are safe again in your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug
your child when you hear news of a fire, a car
accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling
through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can.
Tell them every day that we love them. And pray.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.
"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."
This is for the mothers who have sat up all
night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf
laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid
saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end
soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work
with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their
blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make
cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the
mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies
they'll never see. And the mothers who took those
babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections
are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns
on metal bleachers at football or soccer games
instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so
that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they
could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for
the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their
kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair
when they stomp their feet and scream for ice
cream before dinner. And for all the mothers
who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with
their children and explained all about making babies.
And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just
couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon"
twice a night for a year. And then read it again.
"Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to tie their shoelaces before they started
school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro
instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically
when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even
though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even
away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids
to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be
just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from
the school nurse an hour later asking them to please
pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone
astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed
when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and
the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in
horror, hugging their child who just came home from
school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children
to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience?
Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a
shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or
daughter disappear down the street, walking to school
alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from
bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of
a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when
you just want to hear their key in the door and
know they are safe again in your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug
your child when you hear news of a fire, a car
accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling
through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can.
Tell them every day that we love them. And pray.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.
"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."
