Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Changing Pace
I thought I knew exactly who I was. I knew what I wanted. I had everything I had ever asked for out of life, and I still wasn't happy.
Stacey ThomasPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesFamily Ties
I am in a long distance relationship. I know what you're thinking, long distance never works out and anyone who thinks it can is crazy. But hear me out. When I met my girlfriend, we didn't know anything about each other. We had no connections, we didn't have presumptions, we didn't have anything. When we met, it was meeting a blank slate and there was nothing to hide because we never thought we'd actually meet, we never thought it would turn into what it has — in our minds there was no reason that what we shared with each other would ever leave the conversations e had, and so we shared everything. Our hopes, our fears, our battles, our scars. I was real with her in a way I had never been with anyone else. I was 100 percent, completely unfiltered, me. And that was everything. We have been together four years now and I wouldn't trade what we have for the world. Yes, we have to go long periods without seeing each other physically, yes everyone tells us we're crazy, and yes we have our issues. But I feel like this kind of connection doesn't happen every day and who am I to pretend like something like this could ever fall into my lap again? She is mine, and I am hers, and we are happy. We push each other to do and be better, we hold each other up when needed, we love each other, unconditionally. She is my family. She is my home. My only hope is that everyone can experience this kind of connection with someone in their lifetime because it absolutely blows me away, every single day.
Final ThoughtsPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesWater
I remember back when I drank water, but now it’s water who drinks me. A few Julys ago, my family piled in a van to head to the Arkansas River for some white water adventure. We donned our protective gear of wetsuits, splash jackets, personal floatation devices, water shoes, and helmets. Then, on the bank of the river, the guides explained the rules and safety precautions.
Importance of Tummy Time
Every new parent is eager to learn parenting tips and new things for their baby, because he/she only wants the best for the baby. How do babies sleep? What types of foods can you give them, when to stop breastfeeding, etc. From pediatricians, to close family members and friends, they're definitely the source of finding new ways to strengthen your baby. They can show and educate you on certain methods to strength your baby and allow them to gain new experiences.
Rachel BlanchardPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesGone Too Soon
It’s been almost three years since you decided to leave us for greener pastures. I still don't understand why you felt that was the only way to fix things. I thought that you were happy and finally able to cope with your pain and longings to be somewhere else but it would appear that I was wrong.
Sherri RuotiPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesWriting Empathy, Influenced by Loss
Warning: May be hard to read if you've lost a loved one. It was certainly hard to write. Before I start, I want to mention a song: "Lithium," by Evanescence. It's not really fitting to what I want to talk about, but... it's a song that means a lot to me, for a lot of reasons. As I may write about someday, my mother and some other members of my family struggle with addiction, which is one reason why the song holds a lot of weight with me. It also makes me think of depression, which is another subject I believe I have a good understanding of. And, in truth, my favorite character ever written suffered from manic depression. But this song is also one that I listen to when I'm in my darkest spots. I listen to it when I'm feeling rejected... I listen to it when I feel low. And I listened to it, for a very long time, when my grandfather died.
Summer RainPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesKids: Babies
"Why are you doing that?" "Nope. Put it back." "This is mine, not yours.” “Give it back, please. Thank you.” This is the conversation that I have had with my children since the dawn of time (Well, at least for the past 12 years). I have had to discuss, debate, argue, and reason with the children that I had decided to conceive — for subjects that I never thought would be an issue. Believe me, it can be an ISSUE.
Eboni LobleyPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesWhy The Foster Care System Needs to Be Improved
When I was eight years old, my siblings and I entered the foster care system in Florida. Being in foster care, I saw and had to overcome the daily problems and flaws of this broken system, which is why I'm going to inform people about the issues that need to be changed. I will be providing information on who’s involved, the problems with the foster care system, the problems with the foster parents, and why there ultimately needs to be change.
@GabbyMiernikPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesCrying Over Spilled Milk (Poop)
I want you guys to think of me when you have a bad day, then your day will seem so much better. I wake up on a Friday, like any other 19-year old teenager. "Yay, it's Friday fun time!" HA! No. Wrong-o! I get up out of bed and use the restroom (the night before was taco night). I went to flush, and it wouldn't flush. It's okay, I'm calm. I ask my "wonderful" husband to fix it. "Yeah babe, when I get up."
Jenonymous PagonymousPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesRunning All Day—Getting Nowhere
Some days, I get up to a clean kitchen, lunches made, the smell of coffee in the air, and I just know it's going to be a great day.
Kristy CuevasPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesMy Name is Hope
I never really thought about how life could be so horrible…things were never so good for my family and I. We had to do bad things like sell drugs and rob stores just to obtain money. We stole from people who needed the money too, because where I come from the only rich folks that were around were white people. We stole from people just like us…who planned on saving that money for their kids to have a better life than their parents whom had no education. I never really knew what it felt like to be fortunate, never in my life. I’m 15-years-old and I don’t really have a name, because I don’t really know who I am or if what my poor parents named me fits who I am. They named me Hope, not because they liked how it sounded slipping off their tongues, but because they hoped that I was going to be their little hope, their sunshine in the darkness, but unfortunately, I’m not; and I’m so sorry to my mom and dad for that. Growing up, I was never happy, but my mom would always try her best to make sure I was. She tried and tried without success, so she eventually gave up, but that’s okay she gave up. Moms do get tired sometimes and it’s not her fault that her little hope is a train wreck of a human being. I’ve been in and out of court so many times and dropped back to my little tent of a house after getting arrested for stealing liquor to resell at a higher price, just so I can get some food on the table for my family, not that nasty kind of food either. The times they put me on probation the P.O. (Parole Officer) always insisted that I take a drug and alcohol test, which was completely useless because I’m not interested in doing drugs at all. I’ve never tried any kind. Growing up like me, it’s a gift not having the urge to do drugs and drink poison, but that doesn’t mean I won’t sell them to make that extra cash. I started selling dope when I was 14 and not the weed kind. The white, rocky, sometimes powdery substance — yes just a year ago, boohoo. I started selling coke for this really scary rich white man, only because he told me he’d get me deported along with my family, if I didn’t. This white man was very intimidating, but he was nice enough to give me 50% of the profit from the coke, because he knew I lived on the streets. I think the worst part about selling drugs and alcohol was being on a corner selling them. A corner across the street from my mom. I watched her get picked up by strange men at a certain time of the night, but these strange men would always bring her back to the same spot and sometimes she would be badly bruised and hurt. My mom…she’s tough. Despite being in so much pain, she’d laugh it off and wave her cash at me from across the street. While I was selling drugs and alcohol, she was selling something much more expensive, divine, real, and too precious…her body. I didn’t agree with it at all, but I couldn’t say anything or else my dad’s drunk self would get very mad at me and try to kill me like all the other times. My Pops loved me at one point, but right when things started getting harder, he faded away faster. Drowning himself in liquor and letting his lungs be invaded with methamphetamine a.k.a. crystal meth. Sometimes he wouldn’t sleep for days on and he would start talking to someone that wasn’t there; he called him death. Though it was scary to watch this, I got used to it and stopped caring. I’d even give him liquor. I stole to shut him up sometimes. The thing about me is…as I grew up I started feeling this numbness that eventually grew. I can’t feel pain, no regret, and no sadness or grief. I’d still tell my mom and dad I loved them every day, though only because I was hoping they’d say it back sometimes, just to see if it could make me feel anything at all, that maybe they could fix how broken I am with a simple ‘I love you too,’ but no. Not once did I ever hear it again, because I took their love for granted. How could a prostitute who probably has no idea who my real father is ever love me anyways? How can a junkie, who'd rather talk to his beloved death rather than his whatever the fuck I am to him, ever love me anyways? When I realized everything I’ve ever done for my parents was completely useless to me, I started not going home. I started completely hating myself for everything. I’m a genius, I know I am, but I messed up my future by trying too hard for my parents, trying too hard to get them out of their unsuccessfulness, that I became unsuccessful myself. Who I am is definitely not hope. Don’t do things for people who don’t care about you, it’s only going to get you nowhere.
Raven WoodsPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesLiving a Life of Abuse
I grew up in a home that was far from perfect. My brother and I were both adopted after my mom found out she couldn't have any more children.
Kristina HedleyPublished 7 years ago in Families