April 18, 2011

The Easter Bunny

There’s a story quite funny, About a toy bunny, And the wonderful things she can do; Every bright Easter morning, Without warning, She colors eggs, red, green, or blue. Some she covers with spots, Some with quaint little dots, And some with strange mixed colors, too — Red and green, blue and yellow, But each unlike his fellow Are eggs of every hue. And it’s odd, as folks say, That on no other day In all of the whole year through, Does this wonderful bunny, So busy and funny, Color eggs of every hue. If this story you doubt She will soon find you out, And what do you think she will do? On the next Easter morning She’ll bring you without warning, Those eggs of every hue. by M. Josephine Todd, 1909 Lily
March 29, 2011

true sissy friendship

1. When you are sad — I will jump on the person who made you sad like a spider monkey jacked up on mountain dew. 2. When you are blue — I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you. 3. When you smile — I will know you are plotting something that I must be involved in. 4. When you are scared — I will rag on you about it every chance I get. 5. When you are worried — I will tell you horrible stories about how much Worse it could be until you quit whining. 6. When you are confused — I will use little words. 7. When you are sick — Stay away from me until you are well Again. I don’t want whatever you have. 8. When you fall — I will point and laugh at your clumsy butt. 9. This is my oath…. I pledge it to the end. ”Why?” you may ask. ”Because…you are my friend”. Friendship is like peeing in your pants; everyone can see it, But only you can feel the true warmth.. Silvie by Mark Alan Keyser
October 10, 2010

Mommy Knows What Happens When We Play

I love to hear your voice on the phone, the way you catch your breath when Mommy plays with you and your full saggy diaper. And you sit on my lap and let Mommy take care of you and your messy diaper in that very special way. I have always loved messy diapers, I am not sure why, but I have. It may have something to do with the person who is wearing it having this completely helpless look upon their face. There is something a bit submissive about that. Mommy Sue 1-888-430-2010
September 28, 2010

The Cry Of The Children

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows, The young birds are chirping in the nest, The young fawns are playing with the shadows, The young flowers are blowing toward the west— But the young, young children, O my brothers, They are weeping bitterly! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free. Do you question the young children in their sorrow, Why their tears are falling so? The old man may weep for his tomorrow, Which is lost in Long Ago; The old tree is leafless in the forest, The old year is ending in the frost, The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest, The old hope is hardest to be lost: But the young, young children, O my brothers, Do you ask them why they stand Weeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers, In our happy Fatherland? They look up with their pale and sunken faces, And their looks are sad to see, For the man’s hoary anguish draws and presses Down the cheeks of infancy; “Your old earth,” they say, “is very dreary; Our young feet,” they say, “are very weak! Few paces have we taken, yet are weary— Our grave-rest is very far to seek. Ask the aged why they weep, and not the children, For the outside earth is cold, And we young ones stand without, in our bewildering, And the graves are for the old.” “True,” say the children, “it may happen That we die before our time. Little Alice died last year—her grave is shapen Like a snowball, in the rime. We looked into the pit prepared to take her: Was no room for any work in the close clay! From the sleep wherein she lieth none will wake her, Crying ‘Get up, little Alice! it is day.’ If you listen by that grave, in sun and shower, With your ear down, little Alice never cries; Could we see her face, be sure we should not know her, For the smile has time for growing in her eyes: And merry go her moments, lulled and stilled in The shroud by the kirk-chime. It is good when it happens,” say the children, “That we die before our time.” Alas, alas, the children! They are seeking Death in life, as best to have; They are binding up their hearts away from breaking, With a cerement from the grave. Go out, children, from the mine and from the city, Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do; Pluck your handfuls of the meadow-cowslips pretty, Laugh aloud, to feel your fingers let them through! But they answer, “Are your cowslips of the meadows Like our weeds anear the mine? Leave us quiet in the dark of the coal-shadows, From your pleasures fair and fine! “For oh,” say the children, […]
May 24, 2010

Fantasy land

Have you ever dreamed of living in a fantasy world of living there and no matter what your world was like before this one was beautiful and peaceful.You didn’t want to leave this world you were in you didn’t want to wake up. Because in this land of fantasy and dreams you could be whoever you wanted and do whatever you wanted to do wear diapers you look around in this fantasy land you are dreaming and everywhere you look everyone is wearing diapers. Lily
February 28, 2010

What Baby Needs

*a crib *crib sheets *waterproof mattress covers *bumper pads *light blankets *a car seat *bottles *nipples *bottle brush *formula *baby towels and wash cloths *baby soap and shampoo *cotton swabs *lotion *thermometer *zinc oxide for diaper rashes *diapers and wipes *T-shirts *sleepers *socks *bibs *a stroller *a tote bag And Mommy Lizabeth has them all. Liz 1-888-430-2010
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