by Anna Paravano
Moms should dress in florals
But my Mama likes to wear black
Kind-of-like Johnny Cash except
Without the guitar and hat
When pastel colors are in season
Mama flies-in like a red flash
She jokes when she should be serious and
Cries when others laugh […]
by Lori Pelikan Strobel
Lori Pelikan Strobel’s teatime
The teacups are set out over the lace tablecloth. One teacup is from Ireland, one from Germany, and one from the Czech Republic. These cups represent our heritage, as well as the ritual of having tea with mom. The teas are chosen, too – one decaf green tea, a pomegranate, and a mint medley.
The teakettle whistles like a train horn to let me know it’s time. It’s Tea Time.
Time to sit with my daughters in the evening and to chat, to watch TV, and to read. Most likely we will be doing all of these at the same time because we are mulitaskers. This teatime is something I still do with my mother, too. It has been passed from one generation to the next, and it makes me happy when we have tea. I smile knowing that this is a mother’s day. Any day can be Mother’s Day. […]
by Janice Eidus
Mine wasn’t a happy family. My angry, volatile father tyrannized us, and my mother was depressed most of the time. Yet Mother’s Day was important to us, a day in which we could honor my mother without sarcasm or cruelty, both of which permeated our household. Out of construction paper, I made her homemade cards, and with my allowance money, bought her inexpensive perfume or face lotion.
I didn’t think much about the gifts. I just went to the local pharmacy and pulled them off the shelves. My mother was always very grateful, although I felt detached from her at the moment of gift giving: yes, she was my mother; yes, I loved her; but no – I couldn’t fully give myself over to celebrating her. Things were just too grim in our home. […]
by Maggie Lamond Simone
Yes, my friends, it’s that time of year again, time for the annual Mother’s Day Column. It changes every year; as I change as a mother, as my relationship with own mother grows with age, as I watch my friends with their children. This year, however, as I sat at the computer typing out thoughts, I was struggling a bit, and I finally realized why. My kids.
“Ow! Mom!’ the girl screamed, “he hit me!”
“I did not!” the boy cried. “I was just swinging my hand and she walked into it!”
“I did not!” the girl cried. “He hit me!” […]
John M. Simmons
Mothers’ Day has always been a tough one at our house. My wife, Amy, came from a home where she was abused by her father and her mother did nothing to stop it, as long as he provided the meal-ticket.
At fifteen, Amy went into foster care where she was used to raise younger foster children while the parents partied. My daughters suffered unimaginable abuse at the hand of their birth-mother in Russia. My youngest son, Denney, also from that country, was betrayed by his birth parents, too.
Sarah was five when she joined our family. She was plenty old enough to know what was going on and to play a part in life-altering decisions. She’s now fourteen. Recently Sarah came to me and said: “I miss Mama Oksana.” (That’s the name we have always used for the birth-mother of our daughters). “I used to hate her. Is that okay?” Tears filled my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her and told her it was not only okay, but good. Then I told her I loved her and that I was sorry it was so hard. […]
by Karen Hug-Nagy
I was just thinking the other day that I must have missed my mid-life crisis. I looked high and low and couldn’t find it anywhere. Then I suddenly remembered, I was raising kids at just about the time I was supposed to be experiencing a midlife crisis! Then again, juggling twin babies, toddlers, pre-schoolers and now teenagers is a crisis all by itself!
Yes, I’m a late bloomer. Seems to be a pattern I follow. Instead of jetting off to someplace warm to sip exotic drinks, I was volunteering at the school for holiday parties, or making sure my kids had their homework done. […]
by Jennifer Boire
Yesterday, I lay on the massage table, having a delicious ‘in the body’ experience (as opposed to an out of body one) that felt heavenly. Why don’t I do this more often, I wondered? And why did it take me so many years to allow myself to have this pleasurable experience?
Somewhere in my mid-forties, I felt a strong (and frightening) urge to leave home. Up till then, I was a true-blue multi-tasker, achievement oriented busy person, running a household, volunteering, chauffeuring kids, and coping with motherhood the best I knew how.
I had started late, by some standards, first baby at 36 after two miscarriages, second one at 38. I was studying part-time, writing a book, and teaching. I got pregnant the year I got accepted into the Masters in English program. Nursing babies at 4 am, with journal open and pen in hand, some of my best poems came out of those years. […]
Q- Faydra, It’s baseball season and my ex keeps bringing his new girlfriend to the ball park to watch our son play. It feels disrespectful and I find myself paying more attention to them than to my son. I want to tell my ex not to bring her to the games, is this out of line thinking? Cecily- California
A-Cecily, If your divorce wasn’t that long ago, you may still be feeling a lot of unresolved emotions that are taking your attention away from the reason you are there, which is to enjoy your son. What is great about this situation is it may be alerting you to the fact that you need a safe place to process your thoughts and feelings. If you haven’t sought therapeutic help, it might be a good time to meet with a counselor and see what you can do to get past these feelings and back into the game, so to speak. […]
by Phyllis Goldberg Ph.D., and Rosemary Lichtman, Ph.D.
Sibling rivalry is normal. Fights between sisters and brothers are so common that they’re often dismissed as just part of growing up. But a recent study from the University of New Hampshire finds that sibling aggression is associated with increased depression and anxiety in children.
Although physical and emotional aggression by peers is generally thought to be more serious than by siblings, the present findings showed no independent effects. That is, the results of those experiencing persistent and unmonitored aggression, whether from siblings or peers, did not differ. […]
by Amy Wright Glenn
In 1916, the wild Cypress Creek wetlands of Coconut Creek, Florida were drained. This morning, I drive to Fern Forest Nature Center to visit the 247 acres of what remains. I want my 22-month-old son and to see our south Florida homeland untouched by housing developments, strip malls, and busy roadways.
I park and help my little one out of the car seat. He wants to bring his “truck book” along. So, I tuck it in my backpack knowing that soon he’ll be mesmerized by tall trees, spider webs, and fish swimming in streams. It’s true. As soon as we begin walking in the woods, a calm energy surrounds us. He goes at a slow pace, soaking it all in. […]