parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
Let's Talk About Parent Shaming
I've noticed a growing trend: parent shaming. You've seen it, right? I remember a few months ago a picture came out of David Beckham's four-year-old daughter using a pacifier and people lost their minds. Or Ryan Reynolds, (seriously who doesn't like Ryan Reynolds) when a picture came out of him with his baby in a baby carrier and he was widely criticized for the way he was holding her.
Ryan WaltonPublished 6 years ago in FamiliesFriends New Moms Need
Becoming a mom for the first time is an uncertain but rewarding journey. As all journeys are, it’s enhanced when you have trusted friends to keep you company along the way. Here are the types of friends that supported me as I set out into motherhood, making my life a little bit easier:
Robyn RussoPublished 6 years ago in FamiliesUngrateful Parents
Parents can be so ungrateful. Parents can be a lot of things, but for this moment let's discuss us being ungrateful. I am a parent, I hang around other parents, I read parenting stuff. Now that you have my résumé, let us continue.
Imam Qadriyyah Mabel-DorothyPublished 6 years ago in FamiliesClay Born
The Saturday farmers market in Little Italy lines six or seven blocks intersecting India Street with fruit and vegetable stalls, fresh fish and flowers, burritos and tamales, flavored salts, garlic presses and shimmering kitchen knife displays. It is a trajectory from the old world crossing into the new. It is here that I find myself wandering up and down the pedestrian road hunting supplies for tonight’s evening meal.
Igor GoldkindPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesA Mother's Love
Being a mother to a happy and beautiful little girl is the best thing I could've ever asked for. I can dress her up however I like, I can play with her hair and style it to my liking. She's my little girl, my mini-me.
H.D. GarciaPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesGod of the Storm
The following is a story of time I spent with my dad. A few years after these events, he killed himself. He was a depressed, recovering alcoholic who took his own life for reasons I sometimes feel I fathom, but can’t agree with.
Zachariah WahrerPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThings My Mother Told Me That Turned Out to Be True
Oh, Mommy dearest, how often did I doubt you. Not only did I think I was the smartest kid around who knew better than any adult, but back then I truly believed that everything you predicted and advised was wrong. From the boyfriend you assured me was bad news and the shoes you said would kill my feet to the bigger things in life like being a mother, a wife, and an intelligent human being, almost everything you said had some merit to it. That's right, Mom, you aren't reading this wrong, I am here to say the three words you so absolutely deserve to hear: YOU. WERE. RIGHT. Of course, many of life's lessons I had to learn on my own and I do believe that's how children should, but there are those few pieces of wisdom and experiences you lived through that you shared with such strong persuasion that I should have listened to. Here are just a few.
Jus L'amorePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesI Don't like You Very Much, Mom
Momma, I just want to take the time to tell you why I have never really liked you. You always wanted the best for me and you always did the best for me.
Victoria FeilPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesMy Dad Is a Sugar Daddy
You may hear many of your friends joke about their bills and say, "I just wish I had a sugar daddy to pay for all of this," but you may never think about your father being a sugar daddy. My father has always been a man who wore many hats. As a child, he was a construction worker, a bartender, an artist, a carpenter, and an all-around rock star. Many times late at night I would hear the sounds of Van Halen's eruption wailing from his closed bedroom. My mother and father had me and my brother very young, and they would often joke to people about how we "grew up together." My Mother passed when I was 19, and my father was already in his second marriage. It wasn't long after that he was quickly in his third marriage. Upon the loss of his 3rd wife, that's when the younger women started coming in by the boat-load. It's a bit strange to be 26 years old and shaking the hand of a 22-year-old who is dating your father. Should they say yes ma'am to me or vice versa? I was a bit angry and confused at the time as I was drowning in student loan debt and heard the phrase, "You're 26. These are your bills," being muttered when I asked for assistance, yet I would see the young girls being adorned with Chanel ball gowns for the fancy events that they attended here in New Orleans.
Layla DaniellePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesA First Time for Everything
He was big, burly and heavy on his feet, like an iron shield guarding our family. The strongest person I know, he towers over most. Being brawly and intimidating to people who don’t know him, he has a stern frown and a soft smile, a deep farmer's tan from the hours he spends cutting wood and doing yard work but meticulously ironed grey suit pants and straight Brooks Brothers dress shirts and jackets. He has hammers and nails, saws and screwdrivers, wrenches, and hatchets, but works with people and computers. He casually coaches us from lacrosse to hockey and all in between, but methodically constructs cultured sentences presented to important people every day. He helps with seventh grade math, but works with pie charts and statistics that are puzzling to others. His presence brings safety and protection like having a military squad protecting your family.
Clare WoodfordPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe Second Time Around
Leonard poured his coffee into the old, cracked mug his son had made him, slow and steady as the hot steam fogged his glasses. He could hear the pitter-patter of the rain against his kitchen window – slow and steady. He carefully lifted the warm mug to his dry, leather lips. Leonard was turning seventy in three days. Three days and he would be over the hill, or was it under the hill? He scratched his head and took another sip of coffee. Most days he loved to hear the sound of the rain bouncing off the windowpane, but not today. Today he felt angry and tired, more tired than usual. He gently lifted himself from the kitchen table and shuffled over to the phone. For a second, he thought about calling his son. Then, for another second longer, he thought about calling his doctor. He took a deep breath in and then out. He knew neither call would make him feel any better. But still he picked up the phone, listening to the dial tone hum and hum until he couldn’t take the humming anymore. He hung up the receiver and promised himself, out loud, that tomorrow he would call his son, Victor. Tomorrow they would talk just like old times and tomorrow, maybe, Victor wouldn’t hate him anymore.
Camille LeZottePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesMy Hero Never Saved Me
Growing up most of us latch onto one person: someone you always want to follow or be around; someone you want to emulate; someone you think the world of. For most of us, that person is one of our parents. For a lot of girls, it’s dad. We’re all “Daddy’s little girl,” aren’t we? You choose Daddy over Mommy almost every time, because almost always he’ll say “yes” when Mommy tells you “no.” You live for the days you get to go places, just you and him; you look forward to Career Day at school because in your eyes your dad has the coolest job; you dream of the day your dad walks you down the aisle to your soon-to-be husband. All the things a girl needs, she can count on her dad. Right? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? That’s what I thought; I mean that’s what the songs and movies say…