A poem from me (Inspired by my baby girl)

[Sol Invictus]

Gone.

[Antaletriangle]

Beautiful mate-i had a choker in me throat-i'm a softie!

[Sol Invictus]

I never used to be, but man... she just chokes me up you know? brings out the inner softie fluffy.

[giovonni]

Originally Posted by Sol Invictus

I never used to be, but man... she just chokes me up you know? brings out the inner softie fluffy.

That's what she's here for> You big softy! I'm happy> you shared that side of youself! Otherwise, you can be quite intolerable! gio

[Sol Invictus]

Originally Posted by giovonni

That's what she's here for> You big softy! I'm happy> you shared that side of youself! Otherwise, you can be quite intolerable! gio

hahahahaha some times I can be a little bit 'different' i'll admit. Even difficult... Ok.?

But she is such a cutie!

[Carmen]

Hi Sol,

That poem was just lovely. My granddaughter is possibly the same age, 14 months. My heart just aches with love sometimes when I look at her, shes cute, smart, knowing. The little ones today know who whey are. Sacha levels you with a stare sometimes that reaches right into your soul.

[Wormhole]

And that's why I love you! Keep it coming, Avalon poets unite!

Peace of Mind,
Wormhole

[Sol Invictus]

Thank you folks, very kind of you indeed to drop by and say such nice things.

My daughter is a little blessing - the most contented little baby full of joys and little laughs.

Makes me all soft pink and fluffy.

[Jacqui D]

Beautiful Sol! Isn't it wonderful how our children can inspire such touching words!

Keep that close to your heart, our children are something special, it keeps us going everday of our lives, loving, learning, creating, giving.
Innocent little cherubs with beautiful smiles and knowledge that we have forgotten since those early days when we first arrived.

[burgundia]

...tears in my eyes after reading it.....

[futureyes]

beautiful sol, believe your words surfaced your inner child?

you have such strength and such heart ...

lovely to feel ...

[Sol Invictus]

Future,
my little 'womble' (her pet name) is an absolute bundle of unquenchable love. She just watches and sqeels and gurgles and shows her utter delight at the world, and even sleeps well through the night.

A delight.

[mpea]

Absolutely beautiful, got tears running down my face.

Sure you'll treasure her always; it'd be just wonderful if all the world's babies were so obviously loved and doted on; one day they will be, for sure....... that's why we're here to help build that new world where love is all.
Mpea

[futureyes]

Originally Posted by Sol Invictus

Future,
my little 'womble' (her pet name) is an absolute bundle of unquenchable love. She just watches and sqeels and gurgles and shows her utter delight at the world, and even sleeps well through the night.

A delight.

"womble" ... ahhhh, i love that!

cherish her as i know she does you ...

[Sol Invictus]

Oh she is a little womble though! shiny! must....touch...shiny!

Well, guess she gets that from me.

Originally Posted by Sol Invictus

Oh she is a little womble though! shiny! must....touch...shiny!

Well, guess she gets that from me.

Sounds like you're a big sook and she's got your number. Don't blink. She'll
be grown and gone just that fast.

Mine is threatening to get married..

[Sol Invictus]

I treasure each day baggy.

She is a bundle of absolute joy, and although i have been ill and have little energy, she seems to accomodate that and knows when I am really too tired to do more than let her play on the floor with mummy.

an absolute treasure.

Originally Posted by Sol Invictus

I treasure each day baggy.

She is a bundle of absolute joy, and although i have been ill and have little energy, she seems to accomodate that and knows when I am really too tired to do more than let her play on the floor with mummy.

an absolute treasure.

Here you go, brother. Start studying now so you have it down when the time
comes

************************************************** **

8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter
Copyright 1998 W. Bruce Cameron
Please do not remove the copyright from this essay

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.

"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.


Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.


Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.


Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.


Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."


Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.


Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?


Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places lacking parents, policemen, or nuns. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.


My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate—ink washes off—and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged.

Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?