rubadubdub

rubadubdub

Originally uploaded by sujaco

Grandson, Phoenix, 9 months old, chilling in the tubby.

Back to Blogger!

Follow the yellow brick road… back to my blogger website, Susan*Jayne!  I know I’m fickle.  Thank you, dahlinks.

Friday Fill-ins

1. There is absolutely NO way you can get me to have short hair !
2. People grilling, planting veggies and flowers, cleaning pools reminds me that summer is almost here!
3. I cannot live without my post-its.
4. Playing the Theremin and a trip to South America are two things I’d like to try.
5. When life hands you lemons and it’s limes that you want, place the lemons into a beautiful basket and gift them to someone else..
6. Going with my family to Florida each summer is my favorite childhood memory.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to a gathering of guitar pickers, tomorrow my plans include working and Sunday, I want to take it easy!

link

WOULD YOU HATE ME IF I FLIP-FLOPPED YOU BACK TO BLOGSPOT?  This post is over there.

Wanna Play Along?

I saw this meme someplace tonight and thought it might be fun for us to try.

Go to my comments and in the text box area, do a “Ctrl” + “V” and we’ll see what happens! (Hold down the “Ctrl” key and keep it down and then press the “v” key down to “paste” the image or text into the box)

So I guess I’ll go first.

Happy Mother’s Day!

from my inbox– I also added to it:

What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it heart?

Is it the ache you feel when you see your child 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 need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?

So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies–and for all the mothers who wanted to, but just couldn’t.

This is for reading “Goodnight, Moon” twice a night for a year. And then reading it again, “Just one more time.”

This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired two-year old who wants ice cream before dinner.