parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
Bad Parenting 101
So…I locked my child in the car on Monday. Picture this: a stressful morning, running late, a screaming toddler who doesn’t want to leave his daddy. I fight, like all good mothers do, to get my toddler into his car seat whilst he alternates between lightning rod straight and wobbly toddler jelly and, at this point, I throw my handbag onto the driver's seat. Toddler safely stowed in car, daddy bid farewell, I close the door, and then the sound that shall haunt me for at least the foreseeable future—"LOCK."
By Philippa Robinson8 years ago in Families
Mothers
I think it's only appropriate to start at the beginning, and at the beginning is the one and only... mother. My mother, like any other mother, will go through thick and thin for her children, won't stop till they have what they need even if it destroys herself at the same time — that what you call motherhood. My mother is in her thirties and she has chronic neck and back pains. She was on disability, she was feeling so good that she got off of disability, she stopped volunteering and she is starting to work again. I'm so proud of her; she has accomplished so much with dealing with pain everyday and three children. You can see it in your eyes that she missed working; she likes having a purpose even if her purpose is just going to a job. My mother has children with different fathers; my brother Andrew and I have the same father and same mother; my little sister Ryanna has the same mom but a different dad. My mom is now single and lives with none of them. She always seems to find the dirtbags in life and I'm not too sure why, 'cause she's the one of the strongest people I know. My mother owns her own home, too, I look up to her; she's something I hope to be one day. I don't think I'll ever be able to go through what she goes through and be as strong as her. It seems like life just keeps pushing her down; even when she's at her lowest, she always finds a way to get back up, and I admire that. My mother was in four accidents. None of them were her fault; that's how she was diagnosed with chronic neck and back issues. Some days it was so difficult and so painful she couldn't even get up, and I had to make my sister's lunch for school. I took on the parent role for a little bit — but I didn't mind though, I liked to boss my siblings around. Because of everything that happened to my mother, I grew up faster than normal teenagers. I understand things that normal teenagers don't. But I do not blame her for missing out on my childhood. I appreciate her teaching me at such a young age; I feel like I understand so much more. My mother has been through a lot more than just that; my father likes to bring her to court a lot for child support. I don't think he quite understands that when you have children it takes two, not to mention my stepfather—who I don't classify as my stepfather—also causes multiple problems with the CA. My brother is 16 and he does not live at home he has some issues, but this story isn't about him. My 11-year-old sister lives with me and my mom. My mom is one of the strongest people I've ever met. She appreciates the little things and she has never ever left me. She is always there for me no matter what. She is what I aspire to be when I have children; she is one of the best mothers I think anyone could ask for. Sometimes money was hard but we managed to always have food on the table, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our head. Why? All because my mother never gave up. She had me at a young age — she was 19. She had Andrew when she was around 20; where you're at, he's 16 and I'm 17. In the end, I just wanted to say how much my mother has been through, and that you have no idea what people go through throughout their lives. This is just a part of hers that I've been through with her... this is only 17 years. What about the other 20? Or even the next 50?
By Angela Kropf8 years ago in Families
Letter to My Children's Mother
An Open Letter To My Children’s Bio Mom Dear woman that gave birth to my children, Over the years there have been many things I have really wanted to say to you. Many of them have not been nice in the least. I came into my children’s lives almost nine years ago. I have loved them more each day from the moment I met them.
By Ace Wittes8 years ago in Families
He's the Reason I Always Wear Rubber Boots
I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. His mouth was moving in slow motion, spit barreling out and riding the air. His soul, painted four shades darker today, was flashing warning signals at me from within his chest. The skin on his forehead was so furrowed, it looked like it had burrowed away into itself. I bet his nerves were having a fist fight. I bet it was because of me.
By Natasha Lalonde8 years ago in Families
Life as a Daughter of Agent Orange, Part 6
Later this week my dad will be going into surgery to fix a problem caused by him not following post-surgery orders nearly a year ago (that is a chapter all on its own!). With this surgery looming on the horizon, I keep thinking about my past as his daughter. I see how far I have come since I left for England six years ago on the 22nd of January. Those six months were exactly what I needed; they allowed me to grow as an adult in a way I never would have experienced if I had stayed home. For the first time I was able to go where I wanted whenever I wanted without parental permission or explaining why I was leaving. I walked nearly everywhere in Newcastle and felt like one of the locals most of the time (except for when I opened my mouth to speak). Being in such a beautiful city with lovely people, I was free to detox from all the years of negativity. My study abroad group went on several excursions and aside from those, I visited a few places on my own. The countryside of Scotland was by far my favorite; I lost myself in the rolling hills dotted with sheep. I admit I was scared the first time I went to a new town all on my own with no form of backup, but that fear was simply because I had never been given the gift of exploration as a child. Once I found out I could travel on my own in a foreign country, my wings took off and my spirit soared.
By Elizabeth Kozlowski8 years ago in Families
Dear, Baby Boy
This year, you turn four-years-old. I walked into your life when you were one-year-and-three-months-old. I didn't know it then, but that was when my life changed forever. I had no idea what was in store for me. I had no idea of the struggles and late nights, nor did I know of all the love and snuggles I'd be getting throughout the years.
By Sierra Brown8 years ago in Families
You're Mum or Dad Until You're In Trouble
It is all too typical in many African households, well not only African households, but even other ethnic households, for parents to address us as "Mum" or "Dad" when they want a favor or when you are in their good graces. However, when you do wrong, you're called by your full names and in my particular experience in a Kenyan household, I know this all too well. My mother is one to sweet talk you into doing her favor but, once she calls me by my third name, Nduta, it is like an automatic alarm set off in my head: "Uh, oh .I did something wrong or I did not update her on something." I mean, that is not exactly my first thought, but, ''Oh, sh**.'' It might even start if your mum was saying something to you and you spoke back and said something you should not have said.
By Vanessa Nduta8 years ago in Families
Moose
It was early October, and it was finally time for my long-awaited moose hunt. I had waited ever since I was a little girl for this opportunity, and it was finally here. So, my father, the one that looks after me, and I packed up our stuff and left our city in Alaska. We were heading to a place called Bethel, AK. After a six-hour long drive, we made it to our hunting unit. It did not feel like home to us but it was warm and cozy, like my bed at home.
By Sura Whitt8 years ago in Families
