Mothers Over 40 Archives - Page 9 of 30

Vacation I

by Maggie Lamond Simone

The purpose of a vacation, they say, is to make us feel better. It is an opportunity to escape from real life for awhile, to pamper ourselves, to do things we ordinarily don’t do. It is meant to restore our mental health so that the usual daily routine isn’t so bad. That’s why we look forward to it each and every year.

This year, with the kids a little bit older, we had a family meeting to discuss where to go. After some debate and discussion, we decided as a family to go to the ocean. After making said decision, the husband and children then went about their lives, their jobs apparently complete. […]

The Language We Use (Regarding My Letter from Shutterfly.com)

by Rebecca Upton

Image by Karen G

I love Shutterfly.com.

I live in a very rural community and therefore both really love and really rely upon online ordering for just about everything. When I found out that you could order groceries online, it was miraculous.

I am not a huge fan of shopping to begin with and once I found myself living in a rural part of the country as a result of my job, managing my life online, the anonymity and rapidity of service seemed the logical solution and immensely appealing.

So, it was a bit of a surprise when last week Shutterfly sent me an apology – a personal apology. Not because I had an erroneous order of photographs, note cards or address labels. Not because I had a missing set of personalized gifts or family calendar unsent. Not because a gift didn’t arrive in time for the Mother’s Day holiday that was on the horizon.

Shutterfly sent me an apology because the week prior they had congratulated me on becoming a mother! Great news, one might expect! How thoughtful! It was exciting! Except for the fact that I don’t have (but am working extremely hard to have) my own child/ren. […]

Love is Never Having to Say “Clean Up”

Aviva Luria

Earlier today, when my son went into the den to pick out a movie, I grabbed a few of his creations—construction paper topped with dried, crumbling Play-dough ‘sculptures’—and dumped them in the trash. They had been sitting on the coffee table for weeks, and every time I looked at them I fought off the urge to toss them.

Does that sound mean?

Let me explain further: Also in the living room, where I’m working, the sofa is festooned with (wonderful, whimsical) drawings of spaceships and astronauts, along with Star Wars figures, all affixed with tape. […]

My Two Dads (In Honor of Father’s Day)

by Maggie Lamond Simone

Me and Dad

You could say I always had suspicions. The fact that they get along so well in and of itself was a tipoff, but true confirmation came the first time I saw my husband clean the house. He was a man on a mission, determined to clean it like it had never been cleaned before . . . and convinced that it hadn’t been.

I found myself watching the whole scenario with my mother’s bemused expression and thought, “Oh . . . my . . . GOD. I’ve married my father.”

Although I’m doing better with it as time goes on, I admit I saw many of the stages of grief when the similarities started becoming noticeable. There was denial (“No. I’m imagining it. He does not turn the TV up after I go to bed”), anger (“Okay, stop it! I mean it! Stop rearranging my counters!”), all the way to acceptance (“All right, honey. We can leave for the show two hours early.”) […]

10 Things Not to Say to a News Editor About Being an Older Mother

by Ellie Stoneley

The media-led furore around older mothers rumbles on. Tabloid headlines inferring that the rise in mothers over the age of 50 having babies was responsible for excessive pressure across the health service. The percentage increase was huge but in real terms the number of women (in the UK) giving birth into their fifth decade went up to the total of 154 – a tiny figure as a part of the general rise in the number of births to older parents (35 and upwards).

When figures like this are published, I get approached by the press about my own experience as an older mother. My response is and has consistently the same – that I am where I am, and that I’m extremely blessed to be the mother of a wonderful, exuberant and thriving two-year-old. And, that (in common with mothers everywhere) I’m doing the best I can for my daughter to ensure she has a happy childhood, and a safe and secure future.

Sometimes that’s OK. But often the journalist will prod, looking for an angle, “How do you deal with the negative view of older parents?” “Did you feel judged by the medical profession?” “Are people rude to you when you breastfeed in public?” “You must have had a terribly difficult pregnancy?” “Do you have low energy levels due to your age?” and so on and so forth. […]

Troubled Child Adoption

by John M. Simmons

Troubled child adoption is about loving enough to accept not being trusted. I learned that by watching my wife’s example. I’ll give you fair warning… if you need compassion and are left to choose between my wife and me, go with my wife. If I don’t like you and can justify my position, I’ll throw you under the bus. Then I’ll eat my dinner and drink a Coke before sleeping through the night like a toddler. My wife is different. If you screeched obscenities at her before hurling yourself under the runaway death-trap, Amy would crawl beneath it to drag you out.

My adopted daughters don’t understand that, though. From their earliest moments, their developing and pliable minds were taught that they could never trust a mother. As much as I’d like to blame that demonic abuser for the suffering of my daughters, in honesty, it’s probably not her fault. […]

I Made a Promise Never to Be One of Those Sports People

by Marc Parsont

I made a promise never to be one of those sports parents, loud, obnoxious, screaming from the sidelines. I rarely get upset watching sports on television. As a matter of fact, I pride myself on calmly and cooly passing judgment on plays on both sides of the field. So why do I have so much trouble watching my children play sports?

I broke my promise in the time it took me to write it down. I just can’t understand why I can’t let it go. Let’s face it. If I can’t even watch a six year old soccer game without yelling, screaming and losing my stoic, cool demeanor, then I’ll become one of those pariahs that everyone stares at on the sidelines.

That does not stop me from being critical of the way everyone else stomps around on the sidelines. Hypocrisy is one of my strong points. […]

Frumpy No More

by Deatra Haime Anderson

Deatra’s bitstrip

When I got married 10 years ago, I moved from New York City to a rural little upstate village where a livestock feed store is the main attraction. I brought with me my nearly life-long fashion sensibility and tried, in vain, to keep rocking my 3-inch stilettos, wedge heels and tight jeans. I hobbled along, even in the grocery store, where I ignored the sidelong glances from women dressed in (what looked like to me) pajama bottoms and shoes I’d wear as slippers.

And then I got pregnant. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I stopped holding in my stomach and discovered the mind-blowing comfort of elastic-waist pants. Part of the reason I loved being pregnant, besides the absolute joy of growing my daughter, was being able to wear whatever I wanted and not caring one single bit about my protruding belly. I put away my high-heeled shoes and strutted around in slides and flip flops. I wore my husband’s old button-down shirts and t-shirts and happily tossed on grandpa cardigans when I was chilly. I never felt freer or more comfortable in my life – it was glorious. […]

Oranges for the Buddha

by Tracy Franz

While living in our little semi-urban house here in Kumamoto, Japan, we are often visited by one of the neighbor ladies bearing gifts of whatever is in season in her well-tended garden. In spring, there are strawberries. In summer, eggplants and tomatoes. In fall, persimmons and squash. In winter, oranges. These fruits and vegetables then sit before the Buddha on our altar as an offering—for a short while, anyway—before winding up in our kitchen to be duly prepared and then consumed by the family.

I’ve always been struck by this neat little cycle of generosity: neighbors sharing their bounty; our family engaging in ritual at the altar; my husband and I preparing meals in the kitchen; and the four of us then eating in proxy for the Buddha, just as it’s done in many households and monasteries throughout Japan. It’s idyllic. Almost. It’s that last part where my genuine feeling of generosity too often breaks down and becomes complicated. The fact is, mealtimes with young children can be very, very challenging. […]

The Mother of All Mothers

by Beverley Golden

Mother’s love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved ~ Eric Fromm

Mother. The word brings up varied reactions I know, depending on our personal experiences with our own mothers. Like it or not, without our mothers, we wouldn’t be here.

Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s, my mother Lillian was primarily a “stay-at-ome” mother. It’s not that she didn’t have high aspirations for her future. Her dream was to be a dancer. However, times required she go to work directly after graduating high school as a bookkeeper for a dress manufacturer, her professional dancing dreams dashed. […]