Things Mothers Say I Love You This Much Mom's Definitions

Real Mothers Be Good



You've been playing with my pen, haven't you?

I'm going to give you until the count of three.

Don't pick that, it will get infected.

I don't want to hear that again.

Not another word out of you!

When you don't listen to your Mother, that's when you get into trouble.

What if everyone jumped off a cliff? Would you do it too?

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

You're going to put your eye out with that thing!

How many times do I have to tell you . . don't throw things in the house!

Were you born in a barn? Close the door -- and DON'T slam it!

Don't EVER let me catch you doing that again!

Be good - - and don't do ANYTHING to embarrass me.

"I don't know" is NOT an answer.

Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been.

If you don't do it NOW, then when are you going to do it?

Pretty is as pretty does!

You can't find it? Well, where did you leave it last?

Money does not grow on trees.

Five minutes of pleasure is not worth a lifetime of trouble.

You made your bed, now lie in it.

This hurts me more than it hurts you.

Don't make me tell you again.

Don't go out with a wet head, you'll catch cold.

I'm not Freddy's mom, I'm your mom and I care what happens to you.

I'm not going to tell you how to spell that when you can look it up yourself.

Life is not always fair.

Did you flush it?

Did you wash your hands?

I worry about you.

Can you give me an itinerary for your trip?

I hate having you drive alone at night.

You don't WANT to clean your room? You don't have to want to!

There's enough dirt in those ears to grow potatoes!

Work first, and then play.

Somebody's gonna end up crying.

Watch your fingers.

Did you iron that?

Don't use that tone with me!

Am I talking to a brick wall?

There's no shame in being poor, but there is shame in being dirty!

Eat the crust of your bread. It's good for you.

Don't play with your food.

Get your feet off the table.

Sit up straight.

Don't lean back in your chair.

Use your fork.

Who told you that?!

Act your age.

When I was a little girl . . .

Two wrongs do not make a right.

Don't talk with your mouth full!

Wipe your feet!

Wrong, there are plenty of things to do, like clean your room.

Enough is enough!

Whose shoes are these!?

You must get that from your father's side of the family.

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

This too shall pass.

Wear clean underwear in case you get in a car wreck and have to go to the hospital.

Because I said so, that's why.

This is your last chance.

Don't sneeze like that. You'll blow your eardrums out.

You know that isn't true.


Love is scaring away monsters in the middle of the night, then again at 1:00 a.m., 2:00 a.m., 3:00 a.m. . . . .

Love is putting peanut butter on anything as long as your kids will eat it.

Love is knowing how to disguise vegetables 30 different ways.

Love is reading the same bedtime story for the 999th time.

Love is a hug around the knees.

Love is cutting off the crusts.

Love is a refrigerator covered with creative works of art.

Love is not grimacing through the dirtiest of diapers.

Love is the first kick, first smile, first laugh, first step, first anything.

Love is proudly wearing a macaroni necklace.

Love is knowing how to get out amoxicillin stains.

Love is a bouquet of dandelions.

Love is the smell of a baby's neck.

Love is saying no at the right times when it is easier to say yes.

Love is saying yes at the right times when it is easier to say no.

Love is when your kid throws up and you catch it.

Love is hugging a clean baby wrapped up in a soft towel.


Submitted by Sister Cathy Churches

Mildura Ecclesia, Victoria, Australia




What did you just ask me?


I don't care.



Beeing Sackwards



I'm the best person in the world to answer that question.



Go do your homework.



If you ask me one more question, I'll smack you!



I don't know.



It doesn't matter.



I stayed awake all last night thinking of the answer.



You think I don't know the answer, don't you?



I'll tell you tomorrow.



I already told you the answer before.



Well, I know the answer, that's all that matters.



I don't know if you're ready for the answer.



Why are you asking me all these questions?


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,

dirty ovens and happy kids.


Real Mothers know that dried playdough

doesn't come out of shag carpet.


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 of

Mama to Mommy to Mom.


 Submitted by Sis. Annette Haltom

Fruitport, Michigan, U.S.A.