Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
My Life As Struggling Single Mother
My life completely changed ever since I became a mom at 19. Before graduating high school, I pictured myself attending University of Maryland, majoring Theatre Performance, graduating with an associates degree, and opening my own dance studio teaching young children how to dance and teach acting class for disabled children and teens. When I was 14 years old, I had no idea that I was sexually active until I lost my virginity to my ex friend, who was 19 at the time and thinking about what I did I regretted every minute of it because I was young, dumb and confused whether or not I want to have sex with a guy that is older than me. But, that's not how I got pregnant!
By Gladys W. Muturi6 years ago in Families
Pregnancy During a Pandemic
The test stirp shows a positive result. I'm pregnant. That makes more sense on why I have been feeling this way now. Excited, nervous, happy, scared. Scared, why am I scared? Things in the world are changing and not in a good way. I know things are always changing some for the good and some for the bad. Finding out I'm pregnant at this time in life is not ideal.
By Melissa Ann Wright6 years ago in Families
Shannons' Scar
Shannons’ mum used to work in an aquarium. That’s why she loves fish and crabs and dolphins, but mostly, sharks. This kid at school calls Shannon ‘Shannon the shark girl’ and it used to make her cry, but now that she’s all grown up at age 11, she knows that he was just upset because he doesn’t get to see the sharks after closing time.
By Tarryn Richardson6 years ago in Families
Relieved
Arabella, Eric and Ida sit around a creaking table, waiting expectantly for their breakfast. Arabella, the eldest of the three Wood children, has already managed to spill cold milk, freshly delivered, down her ill-fitting floral dress. She sobs, pink cheeks flushing to a dark red, filling with the salty liquid that escapes from her tear ducts.
By Tarryn Richardson6 years ago in Families
High School Years
Hi there, Your friend Gin is here again! Ha, I am a poet and didn't no it!! LOL Seriously I will get on with the story. I am doing my best to try to keep in order; I am sure I may bounce a bit and I apologize ahead of time; when I jump around I will do my best to explain why I did and get back to original topic asap. Thank you for reading my stories I hope and pray that it touches some people and help them in some way or another!!!! BE BLESSED!!!!!
By Virginia Green6 years ago in Families
Playing With Kids Is Not My Strongest Asset
Kristyn Meyer is on a journey to make herself the best human that she can be. These posts are a reflection of that. She welcomes your support via reading and through commissioned affiliate links within her posts! To stay up to date on all of her shenanigans, please subscribe to her email list! (psst…there’s a free gift involved)
By Kristyn Meyer6 years ago in Families
The one where cancer won
When I was 13 years old, my sister and I had moved to my new house with my mom after my parent's divorce, sadly, I had to leave behind my friends and most of my family. My new school was about the same size as my old school so it wasn't that hard to adjust. My dad got partial custody of my sister and me, so we went and visited every weekend. Every Saturday my friend Brook and I would meet up and talk about everything that was happening in each other lives that the other didn't know about. Her life was taking a turn that I wouldn't have been able to handle. Brook, without crying, had told me that she was diagnosed with leukemia. This wasn't easy for me to hear because I knew I wasn't able to help her through this when I lived so far away from her.
By Tiana Dryden6 years ago in Families
Hey
Hey there! Your friend Gin is back! I look at things in life as half full - yes I am an optimist. I tend to be a happy soul most of the time. I enjoy entertaining people and making them laugh. I love all animals, horses are my favorite. I have two favorite colors, purple and aqua/teal; they look really good together; I like to add some pinks in it too. I like to be colorful. I like to make people happy. I tend to "mother" people; see a tag out so I put it back in; there is some lint on a piece of clothing - I will pick it off. I have learned in life it REALLY IS BEST to be truthful; yes it may be very unpleasant at the time but it is better than lying because you will not have to remember what you said to someone.
By Virginia Green6 years ago in Families
It Was, It Is, It Will Be
Oh, these panes of glass! The things they must’ve seen. The winds that they have protected against the cold that they have shielded from, frosting over themselves. Becoming one with the landscape. The squares that perspire with each summer ray and rain. Oh, this window has seen so much. Has been the frame, the canvas, the home to so many things. Today though, this view is somewhat similar to yesterday, the only change is that there is possibility. Today this window will see change.
By Eslieann Lefler6 years ago in Families
Life is good ... until it's not.
My first memory is the first time I saw my baby brother when he came home from the hospital. I was exactly 3 years and 16 days old. I had no idea how much my life would change. From what I've been told, I stayed with my mother's parents while Mama was in the hospital having a baby. I distinctly remember standing on a chair so that I could reach the telephone to talk to Daddy. Apparently the "thing" was over, and I had a baby brother. I remember thinking, "Not yet, I don't." Being the only granddaughter on my mother's side of the family and the oldest granddaughter on my father's side of the family had made me quite spoiled. I believed I would have the last word on whether or not the baby would stay or not. no My grandparents wrapped me up in a winter coat, toboggan and mittens. It was December 16, 1968 after all and a typical North Caroline winter day ... cold! This is where my memory begins .... I distinctly remember seeing my mother, my father and a white wicker basket in the doorway to my parents' bedroom. The only thing I can remember about my father is a huge smile o his face that I thought made him look goofy and it quickly crossed my mind that I had never seen Daddy look that happy. "Oh no, this is not going to be good, is it," I thought to myself. Mama was wearing a yellow silk nightgown covered by a matching yellow housecoat. I quickly looked under the bassinet to see if she also had on yellow bedroom slippers. She did. From that moment on yellow became a significant color in my life but that's another story. When I finally looked at Mama, she actually looked scared. She was looking directly at me, and I think both of us were holding our breath. I realized just how important this moment was to my mother, and I knew I didn't want to disappoint her. I wanted her to still love me as much as she loved whatever was lying in that bassinet. The walk down the hall towards Mama and Daddy was one of the longest walks in my life. I wanted to hug Mama but the bassinet was between me and the woman who was my mother first. Strike one. "It" was already coming between me and my mom, and I wasn't a happy camper. I stopped walking and took off my mittens, which were clipped to my coat sleeves. I don't remember anyone saying a word. I looked at Daddy who was still grinning like he was singlehandedly populating the world. I looked at Mama who looked like she ate something bad. Her hair was perfect, and she had put on lipstick. I knew at that moment that my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, and I would do anything ... anything ... to make sure she never stopped loving me. I, then, walked to the side of the bassinet. The baby looked more like a hairless rat than a human baby. He was so little. And his face was all screwed up like he was trying to laugh and cry at the same time but no sound was coming out. "Pew, what's wrong with it," I thought. He was wearing a tiny T-shirt with funny looking sleeves and a cloth diaper that looked big enough to use as a blanket. He was red all over, especially his screwed up little face. He was waving his arms and legs around as if he were trying to stop himself from falling. I leaned over him and sniffed. "He smells good, like a new toy," I thought, "Maybe this won't be so bad after all." I got up the nerve to touch him. I slowly moved one finger towards him and my mom reached out her hand as if to stop me. After making eye contact with each other, Mama stepped back but I knew that she was watching me ... and that she would be watching me for the rest of my life as long as "it" was in the same room. I lightly touched the baby on his left arm. Nothing. He didn't look at me or stop squirming. I don't know what I was expecting to happen but that definitely wasn't it. So, I tried again. I touched his leg, holding my finger against his soft skin just a little longer this time. For a split second, the baby stopped squirming. Even though he didn't look at me, I knew he felt my touch. I felt the adults in the room make a collective sigh of relief. But, I wasn't finished yet. I remember putting my mittens back on and when I had rearranged my mittens and clothes, I said ... as if I were the Queen of England ... "Okay, you can take him back now. I want a sister." I was being obstinate and knew it, and I didn't care. No one asked me how I felt about having another child in the house, and I decided that I wanted my mother and father all to myself. I shyly looked up at Mama to see her reaction. She looked hurt, and I felt like a monster. Still smiling like a maniacal clown at the rodeo, Daddy said that taking the baby back wasn't an option. I knew from the tone of his voice, if not the expression on his face, that I better not press my luck.
By Lori Pennington Warren6 years ago in Families
