I have 3 words for this old bitter battle axe GO STUFF IT!
I’m a mom, grandmother and great grandmother and PROUD to proclaim it. And my boys love me, my step children like me, and my grand and step grand and great grand love me.
SO STUFF IT YOU OLD BIDDY where the sun doesn’t shine.
you should see the sweet card I got in the mail today from my daughter! She is such a jewel now that the rough parts have been knocked off.
When we can’t say MOMS ARE SPECIAL, I shudder to think what might be special.
Sometimes people drown in water. Water is evil. Ban water.
In contrast to the happy serene person she is now? < /sarc>
Personally I love Mother's Day. I loved it even when it was bittersweet because my mother was on the other side of the globe.
Why is it that some people can not stand to see someone happy or having a good time?
Ann dear,
Sorry your mommy didn’t get you the Malibu Barbie set you really, really really wanted for your birthday when you were 10 and the time she missed your solo at the band recital because she was hammered on muscatel at the neighbors.
Not please get over yourself; there are thousands of us who had the best mommies in the world and don’t need to be brought down with your bitter whining about moms in general.
(Quite frankly I wish I still had my Mom here with me!)
I thought salon only focused on anal sex and drug legalization?? I guess they are broadening their horizons.
~Author Unknown
Thank you God....
For pretending not to notice that one of your angels is missing and for lending her to me. You must have known how much I would need her, so you turned your head for a minute and allowed her to slip away to me.
Sometimes I wonder what special name you had for her. I call her “Mother.” To think of not having her with me is unbearable. I don’t know what I would have done without her all these years. She has loved me without reservation, whether I deserved to be loved or not. Willingly and happily, she has fed me, clothed me, taught me, encouraged me, inspired me, and with her own special brand of gentleness reprimanded me.
A bit of Heaven’s own blue, her eyes reflect hope and love for you and her family. She has tried to instill that love in us. She’s not the least bit afraid of work. With her constant scrubbing, polishing, painting, and fixing, she has made the house we lived in a beautiful home. When I’m confused, she sets me straight. She knows what matters and what doesn’t... what to hold onto and what to let go of.
You have given her an endless supply of love. She gives it away freely but never seems to run low. Even before I am aware I have a need, she is making plans and working to supply it. You gave her great patience. She is the best listener I have met. With understanding and determination she always seems to turn a calamity into some kind of success. She urges me to carry my own load in life but is always close by when I stumble and fall.
She hurts when I hurt. She cries when I cry. And she will not be happy until she has seen a smile on my face once more. God, please thank the other angels for filling in for her while she is away. I know it hasn’t been easy. Her shoes would be hard to fill. She has to be one of your GREATEST MIRACLES God, and I want to thank you for lending my Mother to me.
God tells us to honor our father and mother. That’s all the guidance I need for Mother’s Day.
P.S. I was blessed to have the greatest, sweetest, most magnificent mother ever.
Happy Mother's Day, Mum!
My Perfect Mother Dear Mother,
I was hoping that in this life I would have the perfect mother. I knew that I would face many difficulties, not the least of which would be myself, and that I would need someone to help me. Someone who would never fail me even when I was failing everyone in my life and, again not the least, myself. Someone who could always find the good in me and convincingly show it to me. Someone who was always glad to see me no matter how long it had been, no matter how awful I had been to them, no matter what terrible mistakes I had made. Someone who would never lose faith in me even when I had none. Someone who would love me with all their heart for no other reason than I was me.
Why was I hoping for such a perfect person in my life? Why did I think I needed such a one this time around? There is something I want to accomplish. Something I can’t really explain or completely understand or see the whole of myself but something I know is there for me to do. Or maybe it is something I need to be; the understanding of the difference in that distinction perhaps being the best answer I can give as to what it is I need to do. The difficulty of this task, encompassing so many obstacles and so many blind alleys, being the answer to why I needed a perfect mother.
Why did this person have to be my mother and not someone else? Who else could give so much for so little? Who else would be there from the moment I was born to shine her perfect love on my mind preventing any other influence from making a superior claim on me. Who else would follow my every step through childhood giving me confidence in myself and reassurance in life’s value. Who else would value my every thought so much that I would feel safe in exploring all the possibilities of my mind? Only a mother and for my journey only a perfect mother.
Why a perfect mother? How perfect it is to learn of love from a mother who knows only love for me. How perfect it is to learn forgiveness from a mother who always forgives. How perfect it is to learn generosity from a mother who joyfully gives anything and everything if asked to. How perfect it is to learn of the limitless universe of life from a mother with limitless life to give. How perfect it is to learn tender affection from a mother who tends so affectionately to all that she loves . How perfect it is to learn compassion from a mother whose compassion extends to all who suffer. How perfect it is to learn how to learn from a mother who is curious about all good things. How perfect it is to learn diligence from a mother who never gives up on me. How perfect it is to learn to trust from a mother who trusts me in all things; even things I know nothing about. How perfect it is to learn discipline from a mother who works all her life to take care of me. How perfect it is to learn joy from a mother who loves to laugh. How perfect it is to learn wisdom from a mother who values wisdom yet doesn’t know she is wise. How perfect it is to learn humility from a mother who gives all this without being asked, without expectation of reciprocation and without hope of compensation. How perfect it is to learn emptiness from a mother who gives all this without asking why.
Dear Mom, you are my perfect mother who has given me all that I needed and more than I had hoped for. I have survived many trials, learned many lessons and accomplished much that I need to accomplish on the path that is mine to walk and in every success and every joy your perfect nurturing can be found like the pattern of brush strokes on a painting. Whether you knew it or not you were giving me just what I needed in order to become what I set out to be.
I love you Mom. You are perfect for me, (TigersEye), your son.
December 18, 2003
Another fine example of liberals just making up "facts." I venture to say it's more like ninety-eight percent of HER acquaintences. Liberals are so adept at projecting their own feelings as facts, and then congratulating themselves on their wise perceptions.
Nasty story.
LOL, I have to thank you for posting this because the comment by their reader Pareto is I think the best comment to any column I’ve ever seen. He writes at Salon’s site:
“Thank you Anne Lamott
for revealing how churlish I appear whenever I denigrate this holiday. Never again.”
And thank you Pareto, for really putting this in context!
Happy mother’s day all, unless it irritates you, in that case “Never Mind” as Emily Latella would say.
No wonder liberals are so angry and vindictive. One supposes they don’t have mother’s day in the socialist utopia of North Korea, where everyone is equal, but some are more equal than others.
I see that the comments about this article are just as deranged as the author is. They call it “fabulous” and say they feel the same way she does. Of course they have to take a couple of jabs at Sarah Palin. Liberalism is a mental illness.
Anne Lamott USED TO BE one of my favorite authors. Her book OPERATING INSTRUCTIONS, about the birth of her son and her first year as a mom, is both hysterically funny and deeply touching, despite her fairly rabid liberal views. But in recent years, she got a bad case of Bush Derangement Syndrome and became, for my money, unreadable. That made me sad — I used to really like her work.
Liberal. Unhappy, bitter, depressed, angry, spiteful, and in this case, a pure wench.
wonder how many abortions she has had...sounds like she’s trying to justify them to herself by saying she would have been a bad mom.
She must really hate her mother...