parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
To the Father Who Let Me Do What Made Me Happy
It was a warm summer in Sao Paulo, Brazil. My father at the time was only 12 years old, but he already was on his way to his first job in a jewelry and watch repair shop and knew exactly what his goal was by the time he was 18.
By Lucas Todesco7 years ago in Families
Yes, Baby Boomers Had it Easier than Millennials
Recently, I had a disagreement with my dad. See, we had an agreement back when I started high school that he would either pay for a wedding or for my college tuition. I plan to spend a boatload of my dad's money on a wedding someday so I chose to pay for college myself; a decision that I made when I was 15 and am seriously starting to regret, especially considering I don't think I'm going to get married. Anyway, currently, I'm looking at buying a house and he asked me about my finances and monthly charges and was shocked to find out how much I'm paying in student loans a month. Then all the questions came up; what about your scholarships? Can't you sell your books back for the same price you bought them at? What were you doing in college that your loans are that much? If it cost that much why didn't you work harder to have a perfect GPA? Why would you pay that much interest? Then, my personal favorite statements; You must have done something wrong. I didn't pay that much when I went to college.
By Michelle Schultz7 years ago in Families
Awkward Moments When You've Lost a Parent
I lost my Dad in 2011, and whilst it was and still is one of the hardest things to deal with, as the years go by you learn how to cope with your loss. You find it becomes easier to talk about them, about what happened, about the memories you have with them. With that being said, there are some moments that are just outright awkward (in an amusing way of course, once you begin to cope better...)
By Paige Roden7 years ago in Families
Family Issues
Let me introduce the real me and tell you a little about my background and my childhood. My name is Dominique. I’m 24 years old and I have an amazing six-year-old son. Yes, I had him at 18-years-old. I’m from Elmira, New York, a little town in upstate New York. I’m mixed; my mother is white and my father is black. My grandma on my mother’s side is full Czechoslovakian, also Greek and Irish. My father's side is African American, Indian, and Haitian from what I’ve been told. It’s cool because I’m just learning more about my race recently on Ancestry and I did the research. Dealing with being a mixed child I had some white family that had nothing to do with us or my mom and we certainly didn’t care. On my dad's side, we weren’t dark enough to some, but it was never a issue. The main ones always treated us the same. It’s like you're not light enough for the white side and not dark enough for the black side when you're mixed. Growing up wasn’t the best, but I tried to make the best out of it. I’m the middle child. My mom and dad had three kids, all girls. Giovonni was the oldest, I’m the middle, and Katie was the youngest but she came later on in life.
By 7 years ago in Families
Blue and Proud
A sense of pride fills me as I watch the men in navy blue march past. I know none of them, but I have my own. I’m blinded for a moment by the light dancing off the shining metals and pins, recognizing several. I remember all his stories from growing up and smile beside myself.
By Hannah Payne7 years ago in Families
Blame
I was six when my brother came into my life. My mother worked overnights and my dad worked first shift, so my older sister and I took care of him a lot. I learned how to change diapers, warm up bottles, and calm a baby in the middle of the night with next -to-no sleep. Honestly, it wasn't that hard, I couldn't wait until I was old enough to have kids. I always knew I wanted to be a mom, that drive was so deeply imbedded in me that it was one of my life goals growing up.
By Brandy Letourneau7 years ago in Families
What Is a Good Mother?
When I was younger, as a child I remember more horrible memories then good from my mother. I remember being three and left alone at a football game house party, wandering, looking for my mother and only finding a bunch of men with beer. I remember being left alone with stranger more than with my mother. My family would take time to raise me and teach me things my mother should have been teaching me. I remember being eight and my mom asking me for sex and relationship advice. At 12, I came out to my mother with a deep, dark secret that I was being raped, and had been for years previously. What did she say?
By Erika Fries7 years ago in Families
What It's like to Be the Child of a Single Parent
I don't think I've actually said it to him. I never said thank you. Never said thank you for raising me alone. I know I didn't make it easy. I know I was frustrating from day one, but he did it. My dad raised me alone. He took me to daycare, and then to school. He packed me lunches for field trips and helped me with my homework. He worked so many hours, just to give me the life he never had; the life he thought I deserved. My dad spoiled me because he felt guilty that I only had one parent. But even with all the toys, the thing that stands out to me the most was that every picture I drew was hung on the fridge, and every ugly clay creation was kept. I think the hardest of all was when he comforted me as I cried about the parent who wasn't there. I didn't even know if he was still mourning her. I just knew I was sad about the life I thought to be normal. I was mourning a life I had never got to have, and even though he was mourning the life he did have, he took me in his arms and comforted me.
By Michelle Schultz7 years ago in Families
