extended family
All about how to stay connected, strengthen ties and talk politics with your big, happy extended family.
Don’t Call Your Children “My Little Mommy” or “My Little Daddy”: It Might Have Unforeseen Consequences!
Don’t Call Your Children “My Little Mommy” or “My Little Daddy”: It Might Have Unforeseen Consequences! By Super Bulldog Hello, dear parents! I’m Super Bulldog, here to shine a light on something that might surprise you: the way you address your children could have a profound impact on their development and sense of self. Phrases like “my little mommy” or “my little daddy” may sound sweet and affectionate, but they carry hidden risks. Let’s explore how these seemingly innocent words could be affecting your child’s individuality, confidence, and ability to thrive.
By Super Bulldog2 years ago in Families
Well Kept
**This story is shared with permission. Names have been changed to protect privacy. There were no decorations, nor a pile of presents in the small home. Uganda’s prison barracks aren’t designed for show. The woman who had invited me to visit made a living for her family as a guard in the women’s prison. Her memory is dear to me, her hearth and home defied my westernized ideals of comfort.
By Holly Pheni2 years ago in Families
A mother's resilience
A Mother’s Resilience The worn-out soles of Alice’s sneakers slapped against the pavement as she hurried down the street, clutching a paper bag with a half-eaten sandwich. The shift at the diner had run long, and she was late to her second job cleaning offices at night. She hadn’t slept more than four hours in days, but sleep was a luxury Alice couldn't afford. Her world revolved around her children, Emma and Ryan, who were just 9 and 7. They were the only reason she got out of bed in the morning, the reason she kept going when it felt like her body was breaking. Alice had always imagined a different life. As a child, she dreamed of becoming a nurse, of living in a modest home with a backyard, of family dinners around a table, not in the backseat of a car. But life had a way of derailing dreams. By her mid-twenties, she was a single mother with no family to lean on and no partner to share the burden. When her landlord raised the rent on their tiny apartment, Alice found herself unable to keep up. Within weeks, she and the kids were living out of her car, parked discreetly behind a 24-hour grocery store. She tried to shield Emma and Ryan from the worst of it. Every morning, she woke up early to take them to the nearest public restroom where they could wash up before school. She meticulously brushed their hair and made sure their clothes were clean, even if that meant spending her last few dollars on a laundromat instead of food. She couldn’t bear the thought of her kids being teased for wearing tattered clothes or for smelling like they didn’t have a home. Sometimes, Alice skipped meals entirely, lying to the kids that she wasn’t hungry. Other times, she worked extra shifts, even when her feet ached so much she could barely stand. The jobs didn’t pay well, but every dollar was a step closer to getting them off the streets. She would scour thrift stores for clothes that looked brand new and carefully iron them so her children could walk into school with their heads held high. She even managed to buy Emma a pair of pink sneakers she had been begging for, a luxury Alice couldn’t really afford but couldn't deny her daughter either. But the nights were the hardest. After hours of scrubbing office floors or flipping burgers at the diner, Alice would return to the car where the kids lay sleeping. She’d sit in the driver’s seat, staring out the window, wondering how much longer she could keep this up. There were nights when despair crept in like a cold draft. She’d cry silently, her hands gripping the steering wheel, thinking about how easy it would be to just give up. But then she’d hear Emma mumble in her sleep, or Ryan stir and reach out for her in the dark, and she’d remember why she couldn’t quit. “They need me,” she’d whisper to herself, wiping her tears. “I’m all they have.” After months of relentless work, Alice saved enough to move them into a tiny, run-down apartment. It wasn’t much—a single room with peeling paint and a leaky faucet—but to Alice, it felt like a palace. The kids finally had a bed to sleep in, a space to call their own. For the first time in a long time, Alice allowed herself to breathe. Even in the safety of their new home, Alice’s sacrifices didn’t end. She continued working multiple jobs, sometimes coming home so late that she only caught glimpses of her children before they left for school. She missed school plays and parent-teacher meetings, and her heart ached every time Emma asked why she couldn’t stay home just one night. “I’m doing this for you,” Alice would say, brushing Emma’s hair out of her face. “So you can have the life you deserve.” As years passed, Alice’s hard work began to pay off. She found a steady job as an office assistant, which allowed her to cut back on the side gigs. Emma excelled in school, often bringing home drawings or awards that she proudly taped to the refrigerator. Ryan grew into a kind, thoughtful boy who always hugged his mom before heading off to school. One evening, as Alice sat on the couch folding laundry, Emma crawled into her lap. “Mom, you’re my hero,” she said, wrapping her arms around Alice’s neck. “You always take care of us, even when it’s hard.” Alice’s throat tightened as she held her daughter close. She didn’t feel like a hero. Most days, she felt like she was barely holding it together. But in that moment, she realized that her sacrifices, her sleepless nights, and her endless struggles weren’t in vain. Her kids were happy. They were thriving. Alice had given up her dreams, her comfort, and her peace for them, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. They were her life, her purpose, her reason to keep fighting. And as she looked at their faces, full of hope and love, she knew she’d do it all over again if it meant they could have a better future. Because that’s what mothers do—they give everything, even when there’s nothing left to give.
By Michelle West2 years ago in Families
Comprehensive Guide to Fire Safety in London: Protecting Lives and Assets
Fire safety is a critical aspect of urban living, especially in a bustling city like London, where dense populations and intricate infrastructures increase the risks associated with fire incidents. Ensuring robust fire safety protocols can save lives, safeguard property, and meet regulatory requirements.
By Hafsa Usmani2 years ago in Families
How Parenting Styles Shape a Child's Future
One of the most crucial aspects of parenting is understanding the impact of different parenting styles on a child's development. The way parents interact with their children, the expectations they set, and the discipline they employ can significantly influence a child's emotional, social, and cognitive development.
By chekawi graphics2 years ago in Families
The Different Shades of Love. AI-Generated.
The small word “love” symbolizes the deepest emotions of human life. Its definition or form isn’t easy to explain, yet its impact is limitless. Love isn’t just for romantic partners. It can be for parents, siblings, friends, nature, or even the Creator. This multi-dimensional form of love binds humanity with an invisible bond—sometimes emotional, sometimes spiritual, and sometimes deeply friendly.
By Md. Solayman Hossain Sabuj2 years ago in Families
No Place Like Home (Full Version)
Raindrops broke the surface tension in the pool, piercing the water in tight circles and dissolving into nothingness. So began our Christmas Day this year – a dreary sunless sky composed of silence. No sounds of laughter, holiday greetings, or excited dogs. Just a disquiet peace. I made coffee and started to make breakfast hoping the smells of biscuits and bacon would rouse the rest of the sleeping family.
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Families
Parents! 7 Simple Ways to Be Your Child’s Hero
You don’t need grand efforts to be your child’s hero; celebrating their small moments with love, believing in their dreams, and being a true role model are enough. Simply being there for them, understanding their emotions, and spending quality time will leave an unforgettable mark on their lives.
By Super Bulldog2 years ago in Families
Dave Bitran - A little Somethin' Somethin' About Me!
Ha, sounds how I would slate my voice over auditions. Never great at this but “hear”goes…🤪 Dave Bitran here. AKA "Btrain" because most people jacked up my last name so badly that Btrain was what came out of their mouths. Btrainsvoice is my handle because I did Radio and TV voice overs for over 20+ years so naturally, as a voice over actor, you kinda use your voice and so viola, Btrainsvoice was born.
By Dave Bitran2 years ago in Families
The World’s Most Selfless Artists: Mothers
I’m Super Bulldog, and I’m here to tell you just how special and selfless mothers truly are. I may be a superhero, but here’s a little secret: most of my heroic qualities come from my mom. Yes, her love, patience, and sacrifices made me who I am today. Mothers are the greatest artists in the world, and their masterpieces are us: their children.
By Super Bulldog2 years ago in Families
No Place Like Home
Just the three of us. We had celebrated Christmas Eve together the day before, my husband, my younger son, my older son and daughter-in-law, and their 3-month-old son. They lugged the car seat, diaper bag, and bottles inside, along with a few other odds and ends. We had set aside other essentials for them to take back with them, and I Aunt Bethany’d some of their Christmas presents by wrapping up everyday things we were giving them like shop towels and Advil. I overdid the baking and 14 tins of assorted cookies were filled. Jars and bowls had candy and chocolate-covered pretzels. Their stockings overflowed. I made arroz con picadillo for an early dinner and eggnog pie
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Families
