Lifestyle
For the lives that we love, and everything that comes with it.
Growing Up with 30+ Cats
First of all, this is not an Animal Hoarders Horror Story. The cats at my mom's house were well-fed, well-loved, and taken care of. We lived in the country, and they had plenty of space. They went to the vet when they were sick. They were happy, and the ones remaining at my mother's house, still are.
By Tarin Campanella8 years ago in Petlife
The Mom Who Is Always Yelling
Today is a bad day. Why am I yelling so much? Did I sleep enough? Does it make me a bad mom? Am I a bad mom...? I yell so much lately that some nights my throat is raw from just trying to get my kids to stop hurting each other, me, or really just to listen. Excuses... that's all I see: my childhood maybe—it was rough, a lot more so than others; maybe it's just who I am—the mean mom who always yells at her kids....
By Kat Peirce8 years ago in Families
You Were Only a Little Abused. Top Story - October 2017.
"I'm so sorry, Mom," I cried. These words frequently echoed off my lips, resounding in a deafening silence from my mother. Most kids in my generation feared being grounded, losing privileges, or some form of physical beating, but I would have preferred those over what my mom typically had in store for me. I would have understood being sentenced to sit silently in my room. That was a punishment that most, if not all, kids went through. I would have understood not being allowed to watch TV or to use the computer, for those were good things that I, in my bad behavior, didn't deserve. And even a spanking with the wooden spoon...I'm not justifying physical violence or abuse, but at least these consequences would have been more typical of the average kid in the 90s.
By Matthew Eyler8 years ago in Families
Adjusting to Life Without a Pet
I had never lived a day without a pet. Before I was born, my parents had already adopted a dog they named Jackson. Jackson was a beagle-basset hound mix. He was black with white splotches. From what I understand, he was a bit of a handful. My parents have told me a story where he had eaten an entire thing of Vaseline and, the next morning, regretted it. When my parents brought me home, he wasn't sure how to handle it. I'm sure it didn't help that when I learned motor control, I would pick on him by tugging on his floppy ears. Then, as Jackson and I aged, we became the best of friends. By the time I had reached the fourth grade, he very much became my dog. He slept in my room, typically on my clothes. I fed him, let him outside, and played fetch with him. In his old age, he became a grumpy old man. Of course, I'm assuming this is due to the fact that we had adopted another dog who is a psycho towards any other animal. Anyway, Jackson began to only tolerate the rest of my family, but his love for me remained the same until he passed away.
By Lemuel Edwards8 years ago in Petlife
Puppy Parenting
When Mary became part of our family, she offered something very special. She was rejected by her birth mother and had to be bottle-fed by her mother's owner. She was the runt of the litter. The time came for her to be adopted out and happily she was given to a couple of men that saw her and had no problem giving up $400 for a blue fawn pit bull puppy. She was happy and healthy until the men were evicted, leaving her and other pets alone in the apartment until they could find somewhere to go. They didn't find a place to go...
By Celia Wild8 years ago in Petlife
The Sh*t They Don't Tell You: Lesson #2
Death by Laundry I was once a young, wild bachelorette, whose main purpose in life was partying, concerts and, due to the lack of rich relatives to inherit from, going to work, to earn more money for the partying and concerts. (Let's not kid ourselves, I paid rent once a month too.) (Much to my disdain.)
By Tiffany Wade8 years ago in Families
