Mothering contributor DeAnna Scott, 48, is the mother of twins, Robert and Phoebe (born via a traditional surrogacy in June 2013). DeAnna is a p/t photographer and full-time mom. Her work is featured on a monthly basis. Copyright Scott Photography.
by Cyma Shapiro
Dear Reader: Each year, I repost this essay, written when my children were young. However, it remains true to me; the original wave is etched in my heart and mind forever. 
Today, I waved to my daughter riding away on the bus. The silly kind of wave – two arms, as if jumping for dear-life and flagging down a passing ship. We both continued waving until the bus was out of sight. Walking back to my house, I had a lump in my throat. I am both happy and sad.
I’m sad for the time which is passing so quickly; sad, too, that I see that my parenting must be working well – my own daughter still longs for me. (I did not have that with my own mother.) I waited a long time to become a mother (again). I will continue to try my hardest to fulfill her need until her hands stop reaching for mine, the arm waves stop, and I see her waving to her friends – not me. That time is coming. In fact, it’s just around the corner.
Writer Kelly Salasin blogged, “There are so many deaths in mothering, beginning at the beginning, and arriving every day after. But equally matched with these deaths are the blessings of a new life – new growth – new possibility.” These words resonate with me and touch my heart. […]
by Marc Parsont
Sofa So Good
My first mistake was putting my hands down between the pillows as I helped my wife rearrange the house for a dinner we were hosting. I’m pretty sure something moved while I reconnoitered the nooks and crannies of our living room sofa.
There was enough dirt, dog hair (HOW? Dog not allowed on sofa.) pencils, pens, crayons and raisins (G-d I hope that was a raisin.) to fill a garbage bag. If you’re missing Lego pieces, I now direct you to your living room or downstairs sofa.
You’ll hit the jackpot, I’m sure. I scored 49 cents myself, a good payday for a massage therapist. […]
by Ellie Stoneley
Can breastfeeding make you happy?
It does me, albeit, after a shaky start.
Now there is proof that it can lower your risk of depression.
A UK report says, post natal depression is more than double in women who planned to breastfeed and then were unable to, whereas the women who planned to breastfeed and then did are 50% less likely to be affected. This is significant when you consider that 1 in 10 women develop depression after the birth of a child. […]
by Nicholas D'Ambra
Recently, I read an article in the Washington Post by a 26-year old gay man who was upset about the some 26 million Facebook users who enveloped their profile photos in rainbows. He felt that there was much insincerity on the part of many who were doing nothing more than boosting their own personal PR portraits.
Gay marriage, or marriage, as I hope it will be referred to from here on out, isn’t one man’s struggle. It took a tremendous amount of support from a great number of people to make this change happen. It didn’t happen in 26 years. Some people fought for it and didn’t live to see it. […]
by Marc Parsont
Yes, my wife and I look forward to the kids returning to school. I’ m sure she thinks along the lines that we’re getting the kids back on a regular schedule and we don’t have to think about trips, traveling, and keeping the kids entertained.
While I’m looking forward to the return of school, my self-professed joy comes from simple self-survival: No more camp forms to fill out, fill in, copy, fax, mail, take to the doctor’s office or retrieve from the doctor’s office.
When I was a kid, back at the dawn of time, my parents kicked the door open and told me to go outside. I did my camps: YMCA Camp Letts and a couple of basketball camps, but we didn’t do anything or have the number of camps that our kids now have to choose from, which meant that we had fewer forms that needed to be filled out and to be filled in. […]
by Melanie Elliott
If you’ve been reading my posts, you’ll know that my family is a transracial adoptive family. My husband and I brought our son home with us from Ethiopia nearly 5 years ago when he was a little over a year old.
Since bringing him home, when we are with The Littlest E and sometimes without him, we’ve experienced those awkward and/or uncomfortable moments when someone says something inappropriate (but well meaning at times) about adoption.
They may say something that’s meant to be a joke, but comes off completely off color. Or, they may do something outright rude. When that happens, and it does, I use that as an opportunity for an “Adoption Teaching Moment” as I like to call it. […]
by Nancy LaMar-Rodgers
…Was Easy
Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s with a ton of siblings and a block filled with kids all the same varied ages; summertime was heaven on earth. On our street on Long Island, there could be, on any given summer day, twenty or so kids of various ages, still playing well into the dusk hours.
By sunset, we had already finished endless innings of stickball, had climbed numerous trees, played kick the can and ring-a-lario(a game that would probably be outlawed today) and were ready for the evening activity of catching fireflies and roasting marshmallows, on real sticks that you had to find.
These memories of summer are emblazoned in my memory, more and more these days as I struggle with the question of “what to do with my 10-year-old boy” on these long, warm, glorious days. […]
by Jo-Ann Rogan
We are a typical family, Mom, Dad, two boys. I work part-time so that I am around for my kids, I was vice president of the PTA in school last year, and I am on the board of directors of my kids swim team.
We live in a lovely little urban neighborhood where it is possible for my kids to play outside by themselves and they know many of the names of the dogs and owners who pass our house on their way to the park and we are not beyond a “deck night” with the neighbors. All just ordinary stuff, the only thing that makes us different is my husband and I are in a hardcore punk band together.
The band was active in the 90’s and we spend the better part of a decade on the road until I discovered I was pregnant at the ripe age of 38. After the band had fiery break up, I moved on with the guitarist to marriage, parenthood, and middle age. […]
by Christy Stansell
What’s the thing you dread the most when summer comes around? The heat and humidity? The jacked-up A/C bill? The kids’ boredom complaints? How about shopping for a swimsuit – for a teenager?!
The debate isn’t just an external argument about whether or not she (the teenager) can/should have a bikini, but also the internal conflict of: Dang! I used to have that slim, beautifully curvy, soft, delicate (sexy?!) body. I’m her mother, for crying out loud!
Why am I admiring my 13 year old daughter’s physique with woeful envy?! That’s ridiculous. Or is it? Weren’t I just wearing a bikini? Wasn’t she just a baby? […]