This past wknd I was kind of in an annoyed mood, and was sitting in my room feeding Maggie and heard some footsteps come into the house and before I could yell out in a not so nice tone TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES you are going to ge mud all over the house that we have to keep perfectly clean just in case anyone who want to come over and buy the house (the part about the house I would have just kept in my head and is part wishful thinking)
so there comes Sammy in with his dirty self and hands me a handful of pretty flowers, kind of melted my heart.

so I almost always delete forwarded emails before reading, but opened this one and thought it was cute:


Real Mothers don't eat quiche;





they don't have time to make it. Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils

are probably in the sandbox.. Real Mothers often have sticky floors,

filthy ovens and happy kids. Real Mothers know that dried play dough

doesn't come out of carpets. Real Mothers don't want to know what

the vacuum just sucked up. Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?'

and get their answer when a little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'