Funny Punk song about breastfeeding .....enjoy

What a good idea
http://www.beadsafe.co.uk/page_1220804606861.html
Emergency Bracelets

62 As a 1930s wife, I am Superior Take the test!

This is a beautiful 3d computer animation of Van Gough's "Starry Night" painting, created by Robbie Dingo, using a software known as Second Life. At one time this impressive 3d computer model was online, so you could actually walk around this painting, sadly it no longer exists but this film gives you a glimpse of what an amazing world he created.



Want to learn more about the software used follow this link to the Second Life website.

Fancy being on a jury?!?

Don't want to leave the house...then here is e-Jury for you.

http://www.ejury.com/sample_case_1.html

You can read a real pre-trial and be paid for it, assuming you are a non-lawyer American.

This is the funniest breastfeeding related story I have heard, found on the hunnybeez parenting web site

Went to Abigail's school Christmas concert (no "proper" Nativity this year ). Each class did a little something followed by a song or 2. Anyway, Ab's class did a Nativity scene, with Ab as Mary ( How proud was I?). A few mins into their bit Ab promptly lifted her dress & shoved baby Jesus up it. The script then wandered away from what they'd learnt & goes as follows....

Joseph: "What are you doing?"
Mary: "I'm feeding our baby"
Shepherd: "Have you got a bottle up there then?"
Mary: "Don't be silly he's having milk from my booby"
Joseph: "That's disgusting"
Mary: "No, that baby milk they have in Tescos is disgusting. My baby's having proper milk"
Shepherd: "What's a booby?"
Mary: "Those sticky out bits ladies have"
Shepherd: "They're not boobies, they're nipples"
Mary: "No they're not, they're boobies"
Joseph: "So why can't Jesus have milk from a bottle then?"
Mary: "Because I haven't got a breast pump with me - you forgot to put it on the donkey"
Shepherd: "Can't you ask the teacher for a bottle to feed Jesus with?"
Mary: "No because this is the best way to feed Jesus. Anyway bottles haven't been invented yet & even if they were I've just had a baby so if you think I'm faffing about round Tescos to buy baby milk when I make proper milk in my boobies you can think again"

I felt a teeny bit sorry for their class teacher - she did try her best to steer them back towards their proper lines but she was laughing so much she didn't really stand a chance. The line about Joseph forgetting the breast pump finished her off - she slid to the floor & couldn't get up for laughing....

The bandage was wound around the wound

The farm was used to produce produce.

The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

We must polish the Polish furniture.

He could lead if he would get the lead out.

The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

I did not object to the object.

The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

They were too close to the door to close it.

The buck does funny things when the does are present.

A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

After a number of injections my jaw got number.

Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Goggle is asking people to categorise images, in order to improve their image searches.

In order to stop idiots writing inappropriate and stupid titles, they have invented a buddy system, which turns a boring task into a simple game.

You are randomly matched with another geek who is on the website at the same time. The same image is shown to you both and we both quickly type in what words describe the picture. If you and your partner type in the same word for the same picture...you both get points. It is harder than you think to match as you have no idea what the other person has written.

It is sadly addictive

You'll find me at imagelabeler

Enjoy

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born, so one day she asked God: They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels out there, I chose a special one for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you.

But tell me, here in heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile; that's enough for me to be happy.

Your angel will sing for you and will smile for you every day, and you will feel your angel's love and that will make you happy.

And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that they speak?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?

Your angel will place your hands together and teach you how to pray.

I have heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will protect you even if it means risking her life.

But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore?

Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you.

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices on earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly: Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name.

Your angel's name is of no importance; you will call your angel “Mummy.”

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait for tomorrow,

For babies grow up, I've learned, to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust, go to sleep.

I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.

(Babychair at 10 days old and I catching up on sleep)

Wow, such a cute and freaky video

Click here to play video

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night
with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up puke
laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid
saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here"

Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end
soothing crying babies who can't be comforted. This
is for all the mothers who show up at work
with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their
blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make
cookies and sew Halloween costumes.
And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies
they'll never see. And the mothers who took those
babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless art
collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on
metal bleachers at football, hockey or soccer games
instead of from the warmth of their cars,
so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me,
Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have
missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their
kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair
when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner.
And for all the mothers who count to
ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their
children and explained all about making babies. And
for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just
couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry,
so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice
a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just
one more time."

This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to tie their shoelaces before they started
school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro
instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to
cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns
automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a
crowd, even though they know their own offspring are
at home -- or even away at college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to
school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be
just FINE once they got there, only to get calls
from the school nurse an hour later asking them to
please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray,
who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they
bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school
shootings, and the mothers of those who did the
shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers
who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging
their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home
safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway?

Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability
to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a
shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when
you watch your son or daughter disappear down the
street, walking to school alone for the very first
time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from
bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back
of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M.
when you just want to hear their key in the door and
know they are safe again in your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug
your child when you hear news of a fire, a car
accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through
diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.

Single mothers and married mothers.

Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we
can. Tell them every day that we love them. And
pray.

"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we
all fall.

What does a modern woman do, when the love of her life cheats on her....apparantly she reports the cheating ratbag on the Don't Date Him Girl website.

I had a quick look thought the online databases of cheaters and I found seven in my home town of Sheffield !!!

I am so glad, that I'm happily married and no longer on the dating scene.

This survey itself measures only one thing -- whether you subscribe to the ideas of a 16th century Italian political philosopher. But experiments have shown that reactions to Machiavelli act as a kind of litmus test, delineating differences in temperament that can be confirmed with more traditional personality inventories. High Machs constitute a distinct type: charming, confident and glib, but also arrogant, calculating and cynical, prone to manipulate and exploit. (Think Rupert Murdoch, or if your politics permit it, President Clinton.)

True low Machs, however, can be kind of dependent, submissive and socially inept. So be sure to invite a high Mach or two to your next dinner party.

Click here to take the test

My Result
The Machiavelli personality test has a range of 0-100
Your Machiavelli score is: 41
You are a low Mach, you reject Machiavelli's opinions.
Most people fall somewhere in the middle, but there's a significant minority at either extreme.