A Few Thoughts On Motherhood

Sometimes, others say things more eloquently than I could ever hope to. Here are some of my favorites on motherhood…

Happy Mothers Day to all Moms and all Hopeful Moms. Most especially to MY Mom…

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Irish Baby Blessing

May all the blessing of our Lord touch your life today.
May He send His little angels to protect you on your way.
Such a wee little fit, sent from above.
Someone so precious to cherish and love.
May sunshine and moonbeams dance over your head.
As you quietly slumber in your bed.
May good luck be with you wherever you go.
And your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow.

“Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood – finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live without.”
Jodi Picoult, Perfect Match

Before you were conceived I wanted you
Before you were born I loved you
Before you were here an hour I would die for you
This is the miracle of life.
~Maureen Hawkins

 “The decision to become a mother is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

“For the mother is and must be, whether she knows it or not, the greatest, strongest, and most lasting teacher her children have.”

 When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.  ~Sophia Loren, Women and Beauty

“God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers.”


There is no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one.” ~ Jill Churchill

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No One Wants A Star, Or, A Guide to Mother’s Day Gifts

Most men are rather clueless when it comes to gift giving. Sure, there are exceptions, like the man that has a jeweler on speed dial, but these, are for the most part, the exception and not the rule.  And so, women have had to figure out how to work around to this particular problem. Many women I know have very specific items on a List for their men. (One Christmas I told my husband “I want a cream colored cashmere sweater from Ann Taylor. Crew (round) neck, size small.” I got a spa gift certificate.  He had every intention of getting me that sweater. He even went to the mall, and

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Mall Map (so easy!)

stood in front of Ann Taylor… and that is when the wild eyed panic set in- he didn’t want to get the Wrong Thing, and so he turned and RAN out.) (I should, however, take partial blame as I didn’t write it down. In my defense, I thought that a well-educated, intelligent man would take steps to ensure he remembered- i.e. he would write it down. We were newly married, and I was still learning about the Christmas Panic that strikes my husband down every year. It’s not pretty.) The List does take the surprise out of gift giving. However, ensuring you get what you want, in the correct size and color does more than make up for the surprise factor. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, right?

I do believe that men have wonderful intentions, and that they want to get their special ladies something meaningful.  This makes them vulnerable.  And a vulnerable, panicked man-who is also in a huge rush because, of course, he left it until the very last possible minute- is just RIPE for the picking- at least, that’s how some evil marketers see them.  Mother’s Day is fast approaching (May 12 guys- get it on the calendar if you haven’t already), and that means that men will have to flex their gift-giving muscles and come up with something for their Mothers and their wives.   Most men will flex that muscle on May 11. 

Everywhere I turn, there are ads for gifts for Mom.  There are ads on television, on billboards, online, and on the radio.  I was listening to the radio and I heard it being advertised: The Worst Gift Ever. I know it is The Worst Gift Ever because I have received it… The International Star Registry.  Oh yes, I have a star. There actually is a place where Julia’s Math makes sense, and where I am the Ultimate Queen and whatever I say is LAW. Sadly though, neither myself nor anyone I want to boss around lives there.

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I received this ‘gift’ in high school from my high school boyfriend. He normally gave AMAZING gifts (He gave me a David Yurman ring! In high school!) (Important to note: I got the ring because I went with him to the store, picked out what I wanted, and made sure the sales lady knew exactly what I wanted as well.), but sadly, this one didn’t add up. The worst part was the buildup. He talked about this gift for WEEKS. He was so excited; I thought he might actually levitate off the ground. The big day arrived (I think it was Christmas), and we exchanged gifts. (I don’t remember what I got him, but I am sure it rocked. I am a gift giving master- except when it comes to my sister Jen. Every Christmas she wails ‘Are you seriously my family? Have any of you even met me?!) It sucked. He was so excited, and I really couldn’t understand why. I mean, honestly, what good did it do me? I couldn’t go there to visit. I couldn’t wear it. My girlfriends couldn’t be jealous of it. My sisters couldn’t try to steal it and claim it as their own. I couldn’t eat it, and I couldn’t place it on a bookshelf. Oh wait… I could hang it on my wall.  A proud display of what a complete dumbass my boyfriend was. Also, it was hideous (see picture). That hideous display of misjudgment hung on my wall for years, right outside my bedroom door. Every time I left the house, I was reminded of the sheer stupidity of it- a star named for someone? (I would think “come on, little boy, I have a wonderful pier to sell you…”)

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Yes, please!

For the next round of gift giving, I was ready (I got the Yurman ring).  These days, I start dropping subtle hints for my husband in early fall (I want ‘this’ for Christmas. Write it down, etc.) (This has cut down on the intensity of the Christmas Panic as well.

To my girlfriends: Unless your mate is the rare exception and is best friends with a jeweler, I urge you to embrace the List. It works out better for everyone involved.

To all my man friends, I beg you: don’t fall for the marketing ploy! A star named for you is STUPID. And I promise you, she doesn’t want it. The only thing worst is the Pajama Gram. Just NO! Start a List. Use the List. Love the List.