Mom reading the Geneva Conventions.
Love you, Mom. I’ll think about you.
“Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world, a mother’s love is not.”
Thanks, Glenn. (h/t Karl)
Here’s Sarah W’s beautiful mother, as she’ll always remember her:
Thanks for the heads up to happyfeet. Pictures of other moms, present or departed, gladly posted.
Darleen’s mom (circa 1954) with Baby Darleen:
Happy Mother’s Day, all you pw Mommies.
Seconded.
Happy Mother’s Day indeed.
Yes – Mothers are indeed incredible. Happy Mother’s Day.
Happy Mother’s Day, to all the moms!
Thank God! She isn’t going to waterboard the little tyke!
Ehh, the faster she turns to waterboarding, the faster she’ll learn if the lil’ bastard indeed broke her vase.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mothers! And lower-case mothers, as well.
Insta-lanche!
Even better is this video
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhcA4Ry65FU
For the JSTOR-deprived, an offering from Marylu Hill…
Oh, and Happy Mother’s day, Mom, from your favorite vampire.
Thanks Ma, I Miss You!
My parents, and yours truly, 1961. ;-D Those were happy days for this new family. Dad had been in the US for 10 years, and had a job he loved, as a Groundskeeper at Pomona College, in Claremont, CA. Little
JD and Enoch and Bender and mgroves and their better halves especially I think. Babies make people better. It’s really the oddest thing, but it’s probably the only thing that keeps Team R’s little boat in the water. Which is a lot a myopic way to look at it, but there it is.
Violating the Geneva Conventions is such a great source for comedy! And it’s even funnier to joke about/imply that waterboarding a child on Mother’s Day will work to figure out whether he broke the vase. Our national “leaders” deciding to disregard our own laws, Constitution and international Human Rights treaties are so funny and so appropriate on Mother’s Day too. After all, Cheney is a lot like this mother; just doing what’s best for the family, laws be damned.
What a joke.
Thanks, D. Sarah’s mom really has an amazing everymom sort of glow there, which is a lot in the spirit of things I think no matter what icky liberals want to make of the day*.
Oh. There’s one now. We have to remember I guess that David’s been a lot hurt by this cruel and unjust world. That and a surfeit of weak watery blood. And Baracky calls us bitter. That counts for ironic I think.
You sound like an unhappy person, David.
Go away.
David, Joyce said “Men are governed by lines of intellect – women: by curves of emotion”. You, obviously, by hyperbola of leftism.
David,
either everything is ok to make fun of, or nothing is.
–Matt and Trey
I love the smell of fitful whiny impotent OUTRAGE in the morning. It smells like…freedom
So do I, Jeff. I find it interesting that David is having such profound Daddy issues on Mother’s Day.
My sweet mamma passed away November 11, 2000. I miss her still. Always will. If you are lucky enough to have your mother, be sure and give her a call today.
::sob::
Thanks for that.
If you are lucky enough to have your mother, be sure and give her a call today.
I saw her and dad on Wednesday, and both were looking good.
I’m not a big fan of mother’s day.
Sure, I love getting my coffee made for me in the morning and going out to the dinner. I’d love that any day, just as my children love me every day and I love my mother every day.
Otherwise, it just seems like a test. Yesterday at 4:30 I saw people at the flower stand that closes at 5 madly snapping up Mother’s Day baskets, and I thought, will their mothers think they don’t love them if they don’t get that basket by tomorrow morning? Maybe their mother would be happier knowing that they had enjoyed their Saturday rather than guiltily driving to the flower stand to buy the same damn basket everyone else is buying.
I am really jealous of the good relationships you all have (or had) with your mothers. Mine hasn’t called me since my sisters got pregnant, and when I call today, she’ll complain that I’ve interrupted her day with the babies.
Then she’ll ask why I don’t call more often. Heh.
Oh. Well the way I got learned about Mother’s Day was that dad was pretty adamant that this was gonna be the best Mother’s Day ever and don’t make plans. It probably meant more to him than mom I think.
David,
Dan’s dissent is patriotic.
He liked giving her jewelry on Mother’s Day cause it was better than Christmas cause for Christmas my uncle and mom’s sister were always there and that would be the uncle that bought way better jewelry cause of his situation being all like it was. Kind of poignant, looking back.
Heather – yes. the weather sucks. it’s been a long Winter w nary a Spring. but I wouldnt write yourself off yet.
Oh lordy, that’s funny in eleventy seven ways! The only time I ever actually tried to escape a punishment, my mother caught up with me running through a bathroom. Replace the chair above with the toilet (both lids politely closed, of course) and there we were. Much to our joint surprise, when she delivered a first thwack, the head of the hairbrush broke completely off and clattered to the floor. We looked at each other in a perfect stop-action cartoon moment and then started to laugh. I have no idea what my transgression was, what I remember is my mother and the bathroom and laughing till the laughter hurt. She was later to pass along this sage advice: Never lose your sense of humor; it will get you through more of life’s difficult moments than any other quality you have. To this day, if I’m finding it hard to laugh at myself or my circumstances, I know it’s time to stop and regroup. Thanks, Mom.
I miss my mom.
Geneva Convention? I freakin’ wish. Whenever young Tmj crossed the frontier, Mom skipped diplomacy, proportionate force, the spirit of the Hague Conventions, the UCMJ articles pertaining to Law Of Land Warfare and go straight to the nuclear option.
The single warhead, planet cracking Dad Tmj. And if Mom had been moved enough at the moment of offense to have to raise her hand in the form of a spank, it was even worse.
I love you, Mom. Wish you were here to see your grandkids graduate this year.
Oh, and Dave, my mom taught me it was the height of good manners to make allowances for displays of poor upbringings or absence of tact or grace in others.
Her attitude, which was a gracious, well intentioned, and above all optimistic sentiment of her generation paved the way for uncouth louts like yourself that have made present society such a morass of casual rudeness and near constant stress.
Go find another thread for politics, sir. Please. This one is not for you.
My Mom liked us kids to be individuals… she liked it when we were irksome to teachers who needed to be irked, cops who needed to relax, and, well, any “authority” that deserved it. She unleashed us on the world precisely to antagonize. She would have been very sad had we turned out to be quiet, resigned, and ultimately ground down nubs of our former selves. She is a true lover of chaos and a borderline anarchist. That twinkle in her eye when she sticks out her tongue at dad when he gets bent is priceless. Really, if I learned one thing from my mom it would be this: fuck authority. and enjoy doing so.
My Mother passed away almost 4 years ago at the age of 94 and not a day goes by that I don’t think of her and miss her. She was a brilliant, talented, and accomplished woman, always a lady, and respected by all who knew her. She was a voracious reader and prolific writer with a penchant for leaving notes or poems inside books she had read. I’ll pull something off the bookshelf, even today, and a note will fall out that says something like, “Honey, if you find this after I’m gone, I particularly liked the passage on page XX as especially inspiring or words to live by.” She also kept a running journal her whole life. The first one I have was written when she was 7 years old, the last one, she was 92. It took me a long time to be able to read them, but I’m glad I did. The one from the year I was born blew me away as she talked about what it was like to try for nearly 20 years to have a baby and finally know the joy of motherhood. If I ever doubted that I was a wanted child, reading that year’s journal put those questions to rest. From the earliest journal to the very last one, the running theme was perseverance and overcoming fears to march on to triumph. I read about her college and graduate school years when very few women could be found on the Berkeley campus and she describes a constant state of terror, I read about how overwhelmed she felt, despite her graduate degrees, when faced with baking her first blueberry muffins as a young bride, the entry the night of my father’s death broke my heart, but mostly I read of a determined young girl who grew up to be a highly successful businesswoman, wife and Mother, a woman who took each day, good or bad, as a learning experience where failure was not an option.
I miss my mom, taken six years ago by pancreatic cancer. She was a very good woman.
I should add, my Mother never raised a hand to me in anger or as punishment. Instead, she had “the look.” There was no mistaking the look. I learned at a very early age that “the look” could bring my Dad to a screeching halt, so I never tested it. I am sure to this day that had I, lightening would have struck or mountains would crumble. I was amused not too long ago to hear my own son say to the 4 year old grandson, “Beware “the look,” don’t push Grandma when she gives you “the look.” Who knew I too had “the look?”
I miss my Mom and my Grandma too. For those of you lucky enough to still have ’em, hug ’em an extra time for me.
Tmj: My parents were (are) on the same team. The decision of one was the decision of both. No use appealing, there wasn’t any Court of higher appeal. And I love them for that, setting the bounds and civilizing us.
N.B.: Trying to play one off the other was so not going to work. They talked and they would believe each other over us. That was a quick trip to losing privileges and grounding. The CIA could learn something about interrogation from them – and I don’t say that because both were schoolteachers with little illusions about the beatific nature of children. (As another aside my dad taught in the same school district we lived in. My teachers knew who he was – some bowled in the same league or on the same team. My sixth grade teacher was on his bowling team! Little Mikey had to be a very, very good boy. Of course, that also meant they knew which of my teachers were stark raving nuts. So it had its good point.)
I think my mom recognizes me but I’m not sure she knows exactly who I am. I visited two weeks ago and sat with her at lunch. She reached out and pinched my arm continuously until I made her stop. Hard too. Purple welts formed on my arm almost immediately. Speaking is impossible so I didn’t even try. I just sat there and had lunch. Her lunch order says, “finger food” but there wasn’t any difference between hers and everybody else’s. She ate mashed potatoes with her fingers along with over cooked carrots and picked apart a hamburger.
My brothers and sisters send flowers. When she was declining my older brother sent a lovely bouquet and throughout the day my other brother kept asking her if she knew who sent them. She answered with a question meekly, “your father?” My father died the previous year. After about ten times I asked my brother to stop testing her. My mother is still alive but I do miss her terribly. I go and see that other woman, the person she’s become, but it’s sad as hell and I can hardly bear it. She doesn’t understand flowers or cards. Those things are meaningless, save to the person who sends them. I honestly don’t know what to do. I don’t know if my visits have any meaning whatever. I’m at a complete loss. Mother’s day bring all this directly to the surface. I’ll see her tomorrow, when it’s not Mother’s day. Apologies for being cheerless, but I do hope you appreciate what you have.
Sara: My parents have ‘the look’ too. It made dining out a relaxing experience for other diners. I can see it when the grandchildren are about. And they respect ‘the look’.
I have been told that I, the bachelor uncle, have ‘the look’. I have deployed it visiting my older brother and it has worked. I have not used it yet on my little brother’s children as one is almost two and the other two months.
Dad said it is based on saying something twice; the third time just looking and then moving the child elsewhere for a ‘discussion’. BTW, has anyone ever been pulled out of a pew, marched down the center aisle of the nave, out to the station wagon, and then spend the rest of the service there with dad? It is a memorable experiance, nearly an epiphany.
bour3: My grandparents went through the same thing. On the last day my paternal grandfather was alive I went to see him. He thought I was dad and I didn’t gainsay him. I just sat and talked with him and went home. When mom and dad got back I told dad as soon as he got through the door to go over, now. He did. Grandpa died that night. I’m a sound sleeper, but I woke on the first ring.
I helped carry the coffin for the old man – farmer’s son, WWI pilot, dentist, taciturn, close. It still hurt. The only time he opened up was when I gave him a poorly-painted model of an S.E.5 for Christmas and had me hang it for him.
Treasure them while they are there; they influenced you in ways you can’t understand because it is too fundamental for analysis.
bour3: My Mother suffered in her last year from stroke-related dementia, but she never lost her ability to recognize me, thank God. I saw it, however, with my Aunt. When she was in the mid-stage of Alzheimer’s I went with my Mother to visit her. I was in my late 20s. When we walked in, she jumped up in excitement and grabbed me and started hugging me and kissing me and exclaiming, “Lucie, Lucie, I love you so much.” She totally ignored my Mother, who was standing quietly with tears running down her cheeks. You see, Lucie isn’t me, it is my Mother. My aunt was living in the past and when she saw me, who looks a carbon copy of my Mom, she thought I was the young Lucie of her memory. She had no idea where she was or who all the people were around her, but she spent the entire afternoon holding my hand and asking me, “do you remember the time we …..?” It devastated my Mother. And my best friend went through the same thing with her mother. She said the first time her mother didn’t recognize her was more painful for her than the day her mother died. Reading your experience brought tears to my eyes.
Sara:
Grandpa: “Freddie?”
Me: “Yes, dad; I’m here.”
It still brings tears to my eyes; I need a tissue now.
I feel very lucky to still have both my mom and dad (this year turning 77 and 80 respectively)…both in pretty darn good health, young at heart, and thrilled with having great grandkids that WILL both know and remember them (they’ll be six in September).
I’m friggin tired the idiots who are trying to politicize Mother’s Day… they’ve already co-opted Valentines Day into Vagina Day, now we’ve got to listen to twatwaffles whining that it can’t really be mom’s day until there is full-taxpayer funded day care, federally mandated “equal-pay” laws, and taxpayer underwritten family leave of 12-24 months.
feh.
You whiners out there (Dave) can have my Mother’s Day when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.
I miss my Mom.
Amen, Darleen. Today here in Kansas City there was a street-side protest by folks called “Moms for Peace” just outside the restaurant where my Dad, my stepsister and her husband took my stepmom for brunch. Needless to say, they were loud and generally obnoxious. One of them had a peace sign poster with the bottom-middle spoke missing, making it a Mercedes symbol. Idiots.
Baby Darleen! You was a fuzzy one.
Just want to stand up and cheer for everyone here! (except for whiney-pants Dave #13, who has no sense of humor).
My mom is 86, lives alone since my dad died, still drives and does everything. She’s a WWII veteran of the United States Marine Corps. If I can find a picture of her in uniform, I’ll send it in.
Semper Fi, Mother! (She doesn’t like to be called “Mom”, so after I outgrew “Mommy”, she’s been “Mother”.) I’m proud to be your daughter, and I love you.
Sara: You were blessed, indeed.
happyfeet: That pretty girl looks exactly like someone who’d have a kid named ‘happyfeet’.
#13: ‘Fuck off,’ he suggested.
God Bless, SarahW.
Did I actually help cause David’s fists to curl into little balls of impotent rage? Well, that’s going to put a little skip in my step for he rest of the day.
Anyone else get the feeling that David #13 is going to lose all reason for living come January 20, 2009?
For all of you that have lost their mothers, my sincerest condolences. A couple of you even brought a tear or two to my eyes. My mom is alive and well, and instead of gifts I’ve planted and replanted her vegetable garden (about 40’x20′, no big deal)for the last 10 years or so. She loves it, and I have to say I do too, so it’s a win all around!
My kids (2 girls 17-16) always give ME mom’s day stuff,cuz the female half dissappeared when the youngest was 2 months old. And I get Dads day stuff too!!…another win-win I guess…
[…] on Happy Mother’s Day! [Dan Collins] Posted by Karl @ 6:08 am | Trackback SHARETHIS.addEntry({ title: “The Zen of Comment Spam (icky […]
Happy Mother’s Day to all.`.*