-
MommaFitz
- Female
- Hazen, ND
- United States
- Share
- Blog Posts
- Discussions
- Events
- Groups
- Photos
- Photo Albums
- Videos
MommaFitz's Page
Profile Information
- I am here to support or represent my:
- Son/Daughter
- Stage of (Sailor’s) Navy Career?
- Waiting to leave for Boot Camp
- When I heard “Navy,” I:
- Needed to learn more about it
First Time Here?
Before you get started, make sure to read over our Community Guidelines.
Create a profile so you can post Photos and Videos of your son or daughter and share stories with other moms.
If you’re looking for specific answers or just someone to talk with one-on-one, browse the Forums or search Members profiles.
Create a profile so you can post Photos and Videos of your son or daughter and share stories with other moms.
If you’re looking for specific answers or just someone to talk with one-on-one, browse the Forums or search Members profiles.
Navy Speak
See this PDF for Navy Speak
N4M Merchandise
printfection
cafepress
zazzle
**Please note: Profits generated in the production of this merchandise are not being awarded to the Navy or any of its suppliers. Any profit made is retained by cafepress, zazzle, or printfection
cafepress
zazzle
**Please note: Profits generated in the production of this merchandise are not being awarded to the Navy or any of its suppliers. Any profit made is retained by cafepress, zazzle, or printfection
Badge
Events
© 2009 Created by Navy for Moms Admin | Community Guidelines
Comment Wall (8 comments)
You need to be a member of Navy For Moms to add comments!
Join this Ning Network
Forwarded from L M
This is from LM - thanks, - (I changed it a little to send to a kid in boot camp)
The Tea Cup....
There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that."
"I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but He only smiled, and gently said; "Not yet!"
Then WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly; 'Not yet.'
He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then He put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, 'Not yet'.
When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on he shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please, Stop it, Stop, I cried. He only shook his head and said. 'Not yet!'.
Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and He took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering "What's he going to do to me next?"
An hour later he handed me a mirror and said 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!!!
Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."
The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will.
So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", remember you are going to come out solid, firm and with a colorful future. You are a US Navy Sailor!!!
Camp NIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!Posted by B S on March 4, 2008 at 6:00pm Oh - my - God!!!!!! It was my worst fear. I knew it would happen. Aaron was always a bit impulsive, but this time he had really done it. This was one mess he would not be able to get out of. And all of my concerns had made a shining debut into my/his reality. They were yelling at him over every little thing, he hated the food, the other guys, ALL the Chiefs, all the orders, even the darned bed!!! Now what? In the letter he'd written he wasn't really asking for advice, just angry. And, I think, knowing my son, just maybe, even a way to get out of this situation. I knew I'd have to reply back that same night because I'd ascertained fairly quick, he, along with other recruits, was pretty much living for the mail. As I read back over his letter I thought back to the years I'd spent raising him. I thought back on Veteran's Day parades I'd taken him to. I remembered all the grocery store and drugstore parking lots where he'd heard me say, "My name is Beverly Staton and this is my son, Aaron, and we just wanted to say 'Thank You'." ("Yes, son, he really did fight in a real war." (age 6), "Firm handshake, son, tells a man everything about you, no matter your age," (to the 10yr. old), "I don't care how old you are and I don't care what he looks like! (age 14), You see that POW on his vest? He paid a price, buried friends & maybe brothers for you to 'choose' to wear what you want to school, so that you can slide by just enough to play basketball at that school you went to free of charge, and so that I had the RIGHT to 'choose' to send you now to a private school." "I don't care how embarrassed you are, what if he is old, he doesn't know you from Adam, either." (that was all ages!) I knew he had never forgotten all those men I walked him up to over the years and had him shake hands with and say 'thank you' to. No matter the protest, each time we'd walked away from another man, another story, I'd seen in his face the way their stories had touched him. I knew he would not have forgotten them or their sacrifices. I picked up my pen and began to reply to my son's last letter. This letter unfolded much differently than others I'd written since he'd arrived at Great Lakes Naval boot camp. I didn't even mention the previous letter he'd sent. I never mentioned his complaints. This is what I did write; I wrote that I bet it was odd thinking you could be standing, at times, in the exact same spot another young man who'd been ordered to choose between the Navy and prison might have stood & gotten yelled at before he went off to make his home on a ship under constant attack. I told him I couldn't imagine eating at a table where young men, not unlike himself, had eaten before. Young men who'd been drafted into Navy service during wartime, against their free will, who'd been sent to a place in a jungle where they might not have eaten for days. I told him I thought it must be hard to learn to trust someone you've just met to guard your backside, whether at boot camp or on deployment. I told him it must be stressful to learn in such a short amount of time so many new things those Chiefs told them they would need to know if something went wrong in a dangerous situation. I told him I just could not fathom sleeping in a bed, in a dorm, so old, where so many young men had slept before him, knowing some had even cried there before falling asleep, missing their moms' and dads', full of their own homesickness. Some only to live only a short while after leaving that place. I told him I would imagine it was beyond strange to be looking out over those grounds and buildings where so many, just like him, had gone before, that at times I would imagine you could almost feel them standing there, beside you. I said I'm sure you must be awestruck thinking on the sheer number of young men who upon leaving that place found the wisdom, the strength and the courage to do more than the jobs they were assigned. And finally, I told him that I bet it made him proud to go where so many heroes had been before. And that I am sure, beyond doubt, that if he should ever be called himself, to find that same wisdom and strength, his own courage would not fail him. Because he too, now stands where many will come after him. Because he too, is now a hero. Within days I got a reply, this time his letter also, was much different than all the others he had written. Thanks Mom. You were right, you almost can feel them here, almost see them. Kind of makes me feel like I'm on sacred ground. Hey, Momma, don't worry about me, I'm going to be fine. Hey, I met this other guy from
Forwarded from L M
This is from LM - thanks, - (I changed it a little to send to a kid in boot camp)
The Tea Cup....
There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that."
"I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but He only smiled, and gently said; "Not yet!"
Then WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly; 'Not yet.'
He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then He put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, 'Not yet'.
When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on he shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please, Stop it, Stop, I cried. He only shook his head and said. 'Not yet!'.
Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and He took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering "What's he going to do to me next?"
An hour later he handed me a mirror and said 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!!!
Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."
The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will.
So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", remember you are going to come out solid, firm and with a colorful future. You are a US Navy Sailor!!!
Shell