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
October 28, 2011

Halloween Classic

Ya gotta love the classics – and as far as Halloween goes, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow has got to be on the top of the list.  There is just something about planting a seed of uneasiness, sprinkle it with a bit of universal primal fear, and then let the imagination and panic grow to a manic state.   And of course there are those little ones who beg and cry for a scary story – just before bed.  Now I know that that’s probably not the best idea for a good night’s sleep, but truth be known, I love coming in after they’ve woken up screaming from a nightmare, looking to me for comfort and to chase away the monsters under the bed, and the boogie man who they are convinced is lurking inside the closet.   I cuddle up next to them, pressing their little faces against my breasts, and take their mind off those scary images with some naughty nanny games (you wouldn’t believe what you can do with one of those glow sticks teeheehee).   Hope everyone has a happy Halloween, and if you are in need of Nanny Ella to chase away those scary monsters with some naughty nanny play, stop by the chatroom Halloween night for a Halloween bash!     Ella  
October 10, 2011

Why so sad today?

Awwww, is the poor wittle aby crying again? You’re such a saaaaad sissy abie tonight! Your eyes are full of tears and your bottom lip is quivering! You must be on the verge of a REAL breakdown! And I’ve only just started teasing you! Well, if you insist on crying, I guess I’ll have to give you a REAL reason to cry! Cousin Jenna, 1-888-430-2010
October 9, 2011

THE HELL BOUND TRAIN

A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor, Having drunk so much he could drink no more; So he fell asleep with a troubled brain To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train. The engine with murderous blood was damp And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp; An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones, While the furnace rang with a thousand groans. The boiler was filled with lager beer And the devil himself was the engineer; The passengers were a most motley crew- Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew, Rich men in broad cloth, beggars in rags, Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags, Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white, All chained together-O God, what a sight! While the train rushed on at an awful pace- The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face; Wider and wider the country grew, As faster and faster the engine flew. Louder and louder the thunder crashed And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed; Hotter and hotter the air became Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame. And out of the distance there arose a yell, “Ha, ha,” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell” Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain And begged the devil to stop the train. But he capered about and danced for glee, And laughed and joked at their misery. “My faithful friends, you have done the work And the devil never can a payday shirk. “You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve robbed the poor, The starving brother you’ve turned from the door; You’ve laid up gold where the canker rust, And have given free vent to your beastly lust. “You’ve justice scorned, and corruption sown, And trampled the laws of nature down. You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied, And mocked at God in your hell-born pride. “You have paid full fare, so I’ll carry you through, For it’s only right you should have your due. Why, the laborer always expects his hire, So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire, “Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar, And my imps torment you forevermore.” Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry, His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high. Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour To be saved from his sin and the demon’s power; And his prayers and his vows were not in vain, For he never rode the hell-bound train. Lily
September 10, 2011

One Inch Tall

If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school. The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool. A crumb of cake would be a feast And last you seven days at least, A flea would be a frightening beast If you were one inch tall. If you were only one inch tall, you’d walk beneath the door, And it would take about a month to get down to the store. A bit of fluff would be your bed, You’d swing upon a spider’s thread, And wear a thimble on your head If you were one inch tall. You’d surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum. You couldn’t hug your mama, you’d just have to hug her thumb. You’d run from people’s feet in fright, To move a pen would take all night, (This poem took fourteen years to write– ‘Cause I’m just one inch tall). by Shel Silverstein Silvie Enjoy the shrinking fantasy would so enjoy doing that to you
September 8, 2011

ab baby bedtime

  Every night you always manage to talk Mommy into one more bedtime story don’t you, you little stinker? That’s alright, it’s such a good time for Mommy and her darling to cuddle up with a bedtime book and read. So once my adult baby has diapers then when the on and pajamas are on its story time. Baby has a favorite book that he can’t wait to hear sweet Mommy read again and a again. I think you know the entire story by heart don’t you doddle bug?   Mommy Lizabeth
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