Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Parenting a Teenager
The night around them lay heavy. Every sound was something sinister... Oh, wait. Wrong story. This one is much more terrifying, I'm afraid - and there are no heroes. No one to save you. All you can do is walk slowly through the darkness, and pray for the light to come - and come it will, but it will take its dear time. "It can't be that bad." You think, scoffing at my title as you gaze lovingly at your rosy cheeked, adorable chubby fingered toddler. "My baby could never become the stuff nightmares are made of." I was that naive and delusional once - and then my child became a pre teen. She was so sweet, thoughtful, and considerate; every bit the angel that yours is right now. If I concentrate hard enough I can still remember the sound of her giggling, and how it felt to be her best friend, respected, the center of her world. Then, the inevitable happened. She became twelve, and Aunt Flo found her. Suddenly my sweet, considerate child became this hormonal, moody thing that only wanted me around if I was a convenience for her. Not just during "That time of the month." Oh no. Don't delude yourself into thinking it's only then. I went from momma to mom and when she's annoyed (which is oh so often) or mad Muh-Therrrr. Just like that. Just like how it's spelled. I assure you. Now instead of hugs, kisses, and smiles I get eye-rolling, huffing, and stomping, or - my personal favorite - the sarcastic, rude remarks and ever popular "must get the last word in no matter the cost."
By Jennifer Culbreth7 years ago in Families
Parenting Without Using Physical Punishment
As promised in my last article, I’d like to share some ways of parenting children without using physical punishment that I learned both as a parent and a grandparent. This article is not designed to change your beliefs about smacking children: if you believe physical punishment works, then my goal is not to change your opinion, because as I stated in my first article I too used to hit my children. However, I do believe there are many parents out there who are looking for an alternative way of raising their kids. This one is for you!
By Mari-Louise Speirs7 years ago in Families
An Open Letter to Drugs
I remember sitting in a freezing car in the middle of Los Angeles, looking out of the car window at the homeless people that passed. Many of them walked by without a second glance, but a couple of them made direct eye contact and stared. Eventually they moved along, but my heart raced as I waited for my father to return to the car. As every homeless person passed, I imaged my dad in their torn clothes, begging people for money on the streets. To this day, I'm not sure why my young mind had placed him there, maybe it was just one of my worst fears playing tricks on me.
By Kasey Lomax7 years ago in Families
Mother Games.
“Tell me about your mother.” My relationship with my mother is an interesting one in the fact that it doesn’t really exist. And for everything one would assume couldn’t be said about the estrangement, there’s actually more than I like to admit. People are always saying I look exactly like her, and I never know what to do with that because they say it as if our comparable appearance is enough to constitute a relationship, or worse, as if I should somehow feel privileged. I guess it’s supposed to be a compliment; what girl wouldn’t want to be compared to her beautiful mother? I however find that looking at my mother is a little like looking at a reflection that moves when you do not. Rather than having some deep-rooted knowledge that allows us to know the other’s movements, there is an empty abyss leaving us completely disconnected. I realize that at some point I dwelled within her, everywhere she went and consuming every corner of her mind. Breathing her air and existing within her existence. But on that fateful day we were to separate she let go of me completely. A division that left a cavern somewhere in the center of my chest.
By Kim Gaines7 years ago in Families
I Will Raise My Children the Way My Mother Raised Me
I've heard a lot of people say this, but my mum is my favourite person in the world, there's no doubt about it. She is an older (and wiser) version of me, and she's always had my back, no matter what. I know that ordinarily, parents don't turn on you for your mistakes, but I also know that sometimes, we know they shouldn't be so forgiving.
By Jemma O'Donovan7 years ago in Families
I Am NOT the Adoptive Daughter Of...
My uncle and I stood awkwardly across from one another in the nursing home room. In between us, my mother lay dead in her bed; her mouth agape and the left side of her face blackened from a violent fall a few days prior. Her final expression was one of fear and discomfort and not one of the peaceful relief my father had conveyed when he passed away from cancer 26 years earlier.
By Christine O'Reilly7 years ago in Families
Winter in the Woods
It was the beginning of my fourth grade Thanksgiving weekend, a wonderful time away from school, and more importantly, the assignments and homework that come with school. "Hurry up Nathan, we're going to leave soon”, said my mom as she rushed me out the door into our freshly packed van. We were spending the weekend in the snow-covered mountains of Sisters, Oregon in a rustic log cabin.
By Nathan Daniel7 years ago in Families
In The Time Of My Parents
The other day, I heard my Mother laughing and it reminded me of my Grandmother. Immediately, I was taken back to those afternoons after school that were spent with my Grandparents, the holidays when we gathered at their home and my Grandmother made her positively delicious Mirliton dressing, laughter and my Grandfathers' favorite Christmas music wafting through the house.
By Kimberly Denesse7 years ago in Families