Real mothers

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-Doh 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."

Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade. It is marked by the progression from Mommy to Mom to Mother ...

4 years old: My Mommy can do anything!
8 years old: My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
12 years old: My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
14 years old: Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
16 years old: MY Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
18 years old: That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 years old: Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 years old: Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 years old: Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 years old: Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole but is reflected in her soul. It is the caring she lovingly gives and the passion she shows. The beauty of a woman only grows as the years pass.