by Marc Parsont
My daughter loves wearing those “Scrungy” things in her thick, beautiful, curly long toffee- colored hair. Both our current Bolivian and former Brazilian au pair take those beautiful locks and twist, twine and twirl those tresses into works of art. (Men: Don’t try this at home without female supervision.)
Image courtesy of www.endoflow.com
by Maggie Lamond Simone
This winter, I’ve decided, has been a lot like childbirth.
I don’t mean in the classic sense, obviously, because it hasn’t physically caused me to scream obscenities at complete strangers for hours on end (well, not often, anyway) and it hasn’t lasted nine months (yet), but rather in a more metaphysical sense – in the way that people seem to deal with them both. […]
by Liz Raptis Picco
When it comes to loving my teenagers, Crazy Loco Love stretches me just shy of breaking point. At times, the connection between our children almost seems hardwired to snap, split, and break away while they reach for adulthood. They seem like strangers when they’re sheathed in snarky self-absorption. The plausibility of body snatching pods intensifies: I’ve stared into their eyes, just in case. […]
by Ellie Stoneley
At this time of year, when the tills of florists, card shops and chocolate emporia go “ker-ching,” the world is suddenly filled with red heart-shaped helium balloons, and I’ve often been known to become a little cynical.
I love ‘love’, and I love being told I’m loved and I love loving the people I love, but, and it is a big, but, I do struggle with the huge amount of money spent at Valentine’s Day on meals that are that bit more expensive than they usually are and, well, the whole thing really. I used to love the idea of anonymous Valentine’s cards and remember trying to disguise my writing in them at school or trying to decipher coded messages to see if I could work out who a card was from. I also know and do remember the bitter disappointment when no card arrived, or if the rose that did come wasn’t a huge bunch of them. (Yes, I was that shallow as a teenager … and constantly disappointed!!!) […]
by Marc Parsont
I’d like to offer apologies in advance to those of you who love Valentine’s Day and find my thoughts saccharine-religious. I don’t always spend my time thinking of things like this. Oh, no, it sometimes gets worse.
I wonder how old Cupid is and why he’s still wearing a Toga? Is he a party animal? Does he get drunk and stupid like we did when we were young and throw up on the floor? Who cleans it up? Do mother or father clean up after their little Cupid? (Midlife parents would do anything for their children, overlook any problem, for even terribly misbehaved ones like Cupid.) […]
by Maggie Lamond Simone
Gather ’round, kids. Our very favorite holiday, Valentine’s Day, is fast approaching. It’s the one day we are allowed to blatantly display our love for each other, and every year Auntie Maggie takes particular delight in sharing the special story of this most romantic time. Yes, Auntie Maggie has an issue or two. […]
by Marc Parsont
Please welcome our first regular “Mr. Mom,” stay-at-home-midlife-father-contributor. His perspective will be most welcome!
Dear Reader: It’s 5:30 a.m. and my son wet his bed. Since I was up, I set a camera to record my daughter sleeping to see if she has apnea and following this lead in will try and learn Quick Books in time for our taxes, all the while hoping, no praying that the dog won’t bark and that I’ll remember to turn off my alarm before waking, you guessed it—my wife.
As a “Mr. Mom,” I thought that writing on a midlife mothers site would be daunting. Women writers, and midlife mothers, in general, have me at a general disadvantage. My experiences, while similar, can only skim the surface. Since I’ve been asked to present my perspective, I’d like to start with this post. […]
by Ellie Stoneley
Mother, Me & Hope
“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter” – Mark Twain
I’ve been asked so many times what it feels like to be an ‘older Mother.’ It always strikes me as a silly question, really, it’s not as if I knew what it was like to be a younger mother. I am what I am, we are where we are and I am 48 1/2 with a 12 month old daughter… I am happy, blissfully happy, if a little tired most of the time. […]
by Ann Sheybani
When did we women decide that everyone else should come first? Who proclaimed it our job to guarantee the pleasure of others and settle for whatever crumbs fell off their plates?
I like to call this the Chicken Back Syndrome. Preparing a chicken dinner, encouraging our husbands and children to take the best pieces—the breast, thighs and legs—and insisting that we actually like the chicken back best. And somehow, without question, everyone believes we’re just loopy enough to crave bone and gristle. After awhile, we even convince ourselves that those tiny scraps of meat buried between the ribs are worth the effort. […]
by Valerie Gillies
I am very opinionated about Christmas tree lights. Flashing is not permitted in our house. Period. I wish I could also stop the flashing going on with the kids I work with at this time of year. Parties, treats, memories, disrupted schedules, past trauma, all combine to make the human equivalents of having left a bucket of kerosene soaked rags in the basement. One little spark and—boom! It’s a tangled mess of emotion, exhausted parents, and zipped up kids. […]