November 14, 2011

POTTY TIME

  Going to the potty is something we must do. Mommies do it. Daddies do it. Even me and you. Our number one is always liquid. Our number two is like a paste. Both of them are made up from all our body’s waste. We have to dump our garbage, so that we don’t get sick, From all the dirty, yucky and disgusting garbage ick. Our waste is trash inside us. We have to push it out. Doing it without our diaper is what this book’s about. We have to wear a diaper, when we’re a baby who’s still small. But once we start to run around – swift and straight and tall, Then we know it’s time to learn what we’re supposed to do when we have to go & make a number one or two. It’ll start out as a tickle, from somewhere deep inside our tummy. Sometimes we can feel it after we eat something yummy. When things begin to stir around and start to move inside, we won’t go in a corner or find a place to hide. We’ll find our mom or daddy – any relative will do – then we’ll say,Excuse me, I must go number one or two! They’ll understand, take our hand, and help take care of it. We’ll walk into the bathroom, pull down our pants and sit. We’ll keep sitting on the potty. Until our wait is through. We’ll know when we’re finished; we’ll see our number one or two. Things feel so much better when we don’t need a change. Even though at first those things might feel a little strange. We’ll feel so much bigger, and that feeling feels so good. If we can number one and two it, then don’t you think we should? mommy lorraine 1-888-430-2010 for all of baby’s fun time needs whether it be potty or sexual and sensual you know where to find me heheheh
December 13, 2010

Christmas Time

Its Christmas Time everyone and i am not ready for it again.Have to get some of these babies to come and help me shop.Think you would like that little ones Mommy really needs a hand at doing this. We can do the shopping then get something to eat but first baby will have to bundle up really good because it is really cold outside.So lets grab our coats hats and mittens and scarfs. Mommy does have the tree up and decorated though just needs some pretty packages underneath the tree and thats where you my babies will come thru for me. Mommy Lorraine
October 11, 2010

Cloony The Clown

I’ll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand balloons. He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. And every time he did a trick, Everyone felt a little sick. And every time he told a joke, Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke. And every time he lost a shoe, Everyone looked awfully blue. And every time he stood on his head, Everyone screamed, “Go back to bed!” And every time he made a leap, Everybody fell asleep. And every time he ate his tie, Everyone began to cry. And Cloony could not make any money Simply because he was not funny. One day he said, “I’ll tell this town How it feels to be an unfunny clown.” And he told them all why he looked so sad, And he told them all why he felt so bad. He told of Pain and Rain and Cold, He told of Darkness in his soul, And after he finished his tale of woe, Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no, They laughed until they shook the trees With “Hah-Hah-Hahs” and “Hee-Hee-Hees.” They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks, They laughed all day, they laughed all week, They laughed until they had a fit, They laughed until their jackets split. The laughter spread for miles around To every city, every town, Over mountains, ‘cross the sea, From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee. And soon the whole world rang with laughter, Lasting till forever after, While Cloony stood in the circus tent, With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent. And he said,”THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT – I’M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.” And while the world laughed outside. Cloony the Clown sat down and cried. by Shel Silverstein Lorraine
August 17, 2010

The Silent Passer-by

// <![CDATA[// // <![CDATA[// When I was a child, I didn’t have hair on my head, just some stubs. I liked to watch my friends play. I would join them now and then, but I preferred watching. Every day, we would see an old man walking by our playground, carrying an umbrella. He had big ears and a bald head. The moment my friends saw him pass by, they would shout, “Hey, deaf and dumb, what’s the time?” They told me that he could neither hear nor speak. It was early evening. I was standing at the gate of my house, when I saw the old man coming. I was alone. There were no friends around to shout the usual words of ‘greeting’. But how could I let this man walk by without saying anything? So for the first time, I asked in a soft voice, “Hey deaf and dumb, what’s the time?” The old man looked at me. Then he looked at his watch and replied,”It’s five thirty.” Lorraine I ran inside the house and never shouted at the old man after that day.
May 8, 2010

the Mother with Her Newborn Child

Behold the mother with her newborn child! An icon of a hope that never dies. Death may label all we cherish lies, Yet this love lies too deep to be defiled. We clear an inner field where fate has smiled, Letting play the pleasures of surmise, Holding back all contrary replies, As though our thoughts might turn the winters mild. Despite the well-known travesties of time, Each time a child is born we dream anew, For only thus our losses are regained. Though we must share the destiny of slime, No passion in our palette is more true Than that which cradles innocence unstained. Silvie
Call Now ButtonClick to Call