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This Page Contains Poems, GERD and
Parenting Humor
I FOUND THE FACE OF GOD
By Michael Battaglia (4/99)(A Reflux Dad)
Dedicated to my son Garrett
They said 'God sent me an angel with a broken wing'.
A broken wing I wondered, how could this happen to me?
I looked to my family, I looked to my friends,
They don't understand how this broken wing affects me.
Months have come and months have gone.
A broken wing I wondered, how could this happen to him?
I looked to the doctors, I looked to the specialist,
They don't understand how this broken wing affects him.
I cried though the nights, I prayed through the day.
A broken wing I wondered, how could He do this to us?
I looked inside me, I looked deep down,
I don't understand how this broken wing affects us.
The tests kept coming, the medicines kept flowing.
A broken wing I wondered, how could I mend that?
I looked at the research, I looked for any clue
No one understands how this broken wing can be no more.
I woke one morning asking what will happen today.
A broken wing I wondered, how can I accept that?
I looked into his eyes, God Looked back at me!
He understands how this broken wing affects us!
Now I wake each morning excited by the day.
A broken wing, no a blessing in disguise!
With immense love I look at my angel, I look at the Lord,
Now I understand this perfect angel was sent to mend me.
THREE DOCTORS
Submitted by C.E. Myatt Jr.
_______________________________
Three doctors are waiting in line to get into the pearly
gates. St. Peter walks out and asks the first one, "What
have you done to enter Heaven?"
"I am a pediatrician and have brought thousands of the
Lord's babies into the world."
"Good enough to enter the gates,"
replied St. Peter and
in he goes. The same question is asked of the second
doctor. "I am a general practioner and go to Third World countries
three times a year to cure the poor." St. Peter is impressed
and allows him through the gates. The third doctor steps up
in line and knowing the question, blurts out, "I am a director
of a HMO."
St. Peter meditates on this for a while and then says, "Fine,
you can enter Heaven...but only for 2 days."
Attention Children: The
Bathroom Door is Closed.
Please do not stand here and talk, whine, or ask questions.
Wait until I get out.
Yes, it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, I am not trapped.
I know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times,
since you were born, because I was afraid some horrible
tragedy might occur while I was in there, but it's been
10 years and I want some PRIVACY.
Do not ask me how long I will be I will come out when I am done.
Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.
Do not go running back to the phone yelling She's in the BATHROOM!
Do not begin to fight as soon as I go in.
Do not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle
them. This was funny when you were two.
Do not slide pennies, Legos, or notes under the door. Even
when you were two this got a little tiresome.
If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still
talking as you face this closed door, please turn around,
walk away, and wait for me in another room. I will be glad
to listen to you when I am done. And yes, I still love you. Mom
Friendship
Friendship needs no studied phrases.
Polished face, or winning wiles;
Friendship deals no lavish praises,
Friendship dons no surface smiles.
Friendship follows Nature's diction,
Shuns the blandishments of art.
Boldly severs truth from fiction,
Speaks the language of the heart.
Friendship favors no condition,
Scorns a narrow-minded creed,
Lovingly fulfills its mission,
Be it word or be it deed.
Friendship cheers the faint and weary,
Makes the timid spirit brave,
Warns the erring, lights the dreary,
Smooths the passage to the grave.
Friendship---pure, unselfish friendship,
All through life's allotted span,
Nurtures, strengthens, widens, lengthens,
Man's relationship with man.
A Great Poem Written by a
GERD Mom!
I suppose a mother's work is really never done
There's always 1 more load of wash or an errand to be run.
There's always boo-boos that need kissing hair that needs a brush,
and children screaming through the house who have to be told hush.
There's always a sandwich to be made with the crust trimmed neatly off,
and dishes to wash and floors to sweep and always a cold with a cough.
There's always a child yelling MAMA in the middle of the night,
who needs her to come and scare away monsters and hold on really tight.
There's always a binky being thrown outside a wee one's crib
there's constant drool and carrot stains all over a baby's bib.
There are tushies to wipe, faces to wash and tiny toes to be kissed,
and endless hours watching Blue's Clues or Barney never to be missed.
There are friends who play over and stay all day and often even through
dinner,
there's always a fight during a game over who is the real winner.
There's always crayon or marker to be washed off the living room wall,
and Play-Doh stuck to carpet and sticky suckers that always fall.
There are bottles of old milk under the couch with a moldy PB&J,
There's always a toddler crying when her blankie is far away.
There's always a small person under foot or on a lap,
who gives wet kisses, sticky hugs and who hopefully takes a nap.
A mother often does complain there are too few hours in a day,
to work, and cook and clean and wash and occasionally to play.
That a mother is often sleep deprived is a fact that's held very true,
She's the last one to bed and the first to rise, even when she has the flu.
A mother often wonders how long that she would sleep,
until she is well rested, perhaps a solid week.
Seven days of unbroken rest is a luxury for anyone,
but you see it'll never happen cuz mother's work is never done.
But when you ask her if she wants out you'll see her eyes do shine,
she'll turn and look at her children with love and say, "no way, they're
MINE".
Because, you see, a mommy knows even better then the rest
her work WILL be done in the blink of an eye when her children leave the nest.
From SHF:
For Rachel and Matthew
11-11-98
A Great Poem Written by another GERD mom!
When You are One
For Thomas, by: Sue Vadeika
They say you'll stop spitting when you are one;
It won't be too soon, my dear little son.
You spit up your carrots, green beans, and squash;
All I've done today is three loads of wash.
The carpet is stained in the bedroom and den;
Ut Oh! I think I hear burping again!
What a big mess! This is not fun!
Oh my dear! When will you be one!
I really am tired of your burp cloth and bib;
But then I watch you asleep in your crib.
Your sweet little hands and button nose;
Your fuzzy blond hair and ten little toes;
You know what, this age isn't so bad;
I love you just as you are; my sweet little lad.
Don't grow up too quickly, my dear little son.
I'll cherish these memories when you are one.
"Stress Management Visualization":
-Picture yourself near a stream.
-Birds are chirping softly in the crisp, cool mountain air.
-Nothing can bother you here.
-No one knows this secret place.
-You are in total seclusion from that place called "the world"
-The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade
of serenity.
-The water is clear.
-You can easily make out the face of the person whose head you are
holding under the water.
-There now.......Feeling better?
The "Urp" Scale
by Linda Hanlon
1- Little urp- other
people are disgusted, but parent can catch it all in one hand
2-Medium urp- other
people are moving away quickly, It takes a whole burp
cloth to mop up parent and the baby.
3- Big urp- other people are pushing each other out of the way.
It would take
a whole roll of Bounty to clean up and the floor would still need mopping.
4- Major eruption- other people have left the building. Parent
is soaked, the kid
is soaked, and the EPA has been called in.
If you would like to submit something to do with
parenting, or reflux funnies to be displayed here, please email it to:
Nancy
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