parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
The dreaded toxic masculinity
-The dreaded toxic masculinity- What is toxic masculinity, you ask? When a man hears this term, he normally instantly gets his back up and gets defensive. “Masculinity isn’t toxic” or “It’s not toxic to be a man” is normally bellowed before even hearing what is to come. If men listened to what was being said they most likely would understand that the term isn’t to insult them. That is of course, if they’re not acting a fool or using their manliness as a cover to display toxic traits and behaviors.
By Jessica Joyce2 years ago in Families
8 Affirmations
Every day is an important day for Mom to be her best because without mom at her best the whole wheel of the family can become off balance. Therefore, it is not only important for mom to be rested and refreshed but also to be in a constant mode of making sure she feels her best and her self-confidence is on 10.
By Hennessie Brown2 years ago in Families
Being "That" Mom: Revisited
Three years ago, I wrote a short blog about being that baseball mom. I talked of the beginnings of it all, and how important those teams become. I vaguely remember the writing of it, and reading it again brought me back to that time in our lives. So sweet, and a great thing to remember.
By Jenn Pautsch2 years ago in Families
My Favourite Storyteller
My dad was a storyteller. In the few memories I have of my father, I can pick out numerous ones of him telling outrageous stories to me that my 3-5 year old brain took as fact. While if I told you them you would say, 'that's a joke! how could anyone believe that?' and I agree, who would believe such a thing? However, growing up, any sentence that came from my dad's mouth would be a statement I defended with my life, something I think many people can relate to. As a child, I looked at my dad as a man who had lived life, and had the proof to back it up. That's why when he told me about how I was born on a farm in a water bucket, (despite having lived in the city my whole life) I believed him with the utmost certainty. In fact, it wasn't until I finally questioned my mom a few years ago that it occurred to me how outlandish it was. Regardless of the decieving nature of it all, I'm grateful to my dad for the memories I have of the entertaining, ridiculous, and shocking stories he told me.
By Angelina B2 years ago in Families
Like Ripples In The Water Mistakes As A Parent Ripple Through Time
Things ripple through time, and we fail to realize how much of an effect those things will have on us. Worse yet, what about the future of someone else? Remember that thing called responsibility? Well, that too is on you, like blood on your hands that you can’t wash away. I am talking about the sins of parenting. As soon as you create life, you’re responsible for how that life turns out.
By Jason Ray Morton 2 years ago in Families
My Mother's Daughter
My mother. A small frail little lady who sat peacefully in her recliner with a blanket draped across her lap,with a book in her hands. It was a week of reflection for me, we had recently learned that her stomach cancer had returned. The last few days were a bit quiet at home as I would check on her like a mother with a newborn. Our roles in life had changed when I became her fulltime caretaker.
By Paula Cushman2 years ago in Families
Musical Alcoholism
It was always three. Three more songs, until she was done. Three more drinks, then she would not remember. Three A.M when she would play “The Middle,” by Jimmy Eat World. It was the Karaoke machine that would constantly display 1...2...3... before any song would begin. It was the fact that for the first fifteen years of my life. My mother was a musical Alcoholic. Music and I have had a consistent love hate relationship. There have been a couple times in my life where music stood out the loudest. However, the one that claims center stage and shaped me took place repeatedly during the first fifteen years of my life.
By Clarissas Madness2 years ago in Families
The Voice of the Tree House
The whispers from the trees began ten minutes ago to lure us into the forest like a siren's call. Halloween night and me just ten years old as my friends gathered at our house in their costumes and full of candy from the night’s scavagings and roamings from the neighborhood homes lit with pumpkins as the paper ghosts wraithed in the cooling breeze that rattled the leaves that sounded like applause the of bones. The whispers continued tin-like and distant as my friends with their plastic flashlights huddled terrified. “Long is the night, and deep is the forest where mysteries lie! Come find me!”
By Kevin Rolly2 years ago in Families