children
Children: Our most valuable natural resource.
The Queue
I walk forward a few paces in the line to see Santa. There are little reindeer standing on top of cotton which looks a bit like snow. I look behind me and stare at the line of other children waiting to see Santa. There’s a bored girl right behind me, and a teenager with a small girl, and another teenager with his Dad. The elves' bells are jangling so I turn back around, and they look slightly bored at first, but then they smile when they see me watching them.
By Beth Norman9 years ago in Families
Baby Talk
A few months back I watched Chrissy Teigen give an amazing speech about how it's not ok to ask someone when they are having children. They could be going through fertility treatments, they could be trying to adopt, or they could simply not ever intend on having children. Bottom line, we don't know someone else's struggle. It stirred a lot of emotion up in me, that I typically push to the back of my mind on most days. I identify so much with what she was saying it’s insane. Not having children by the age of thirty isn't an uncommon thing nowadays, but for some reason you still get the same old tired “your clock is ticking” or my favorite “those eggs won't cook for too much longer.” I get it, I do. It’s not that I don't want children, I do hope to have my own little bundle of joy someday. People, however, act as if they get offended that I don't have children or that I'm not actively trying. I'm honestly just not in the position I would like to be in before I bring a being that's totally dependant on me into this world. I got a late start on college, so at the age of 29, I'm still working on my degree. I want to be financially stable, not working paycheck to paycheck to barely make ends meet. I can't even begin to think about the world I would be bringing a child up in these days with being in a constant state of war, political turmoil, social injustice, bullying, and let's be frank here all the creeps running around nowadays. When people feel the need to discuss someone else's declining fertility, it tends to get a tad under my skin and here's why:
By Erica Tinnin9 years ago in Families
Act of Forgiveness
We celebrate our birthdays every year and usually there is that one person that celebrates it even more than we do, our mother. They reminisce about the day we were born or tell some silly story about us when we were just infants. They take pride that they brought such a unique and smart individual into the world. That is the case for most mothers. Some mothers forget to even call you or wish you a happy birthday in any way. Maybe it’s not even some mothers, maybe it is just mine.
By Tiffany Thompson9 years ago in Families
One Pair of Shoes
My most significant memories of childhood center around contributions made by a protective mother and the lack thereof from an absentee dad. My Mother is a head strong island woman. My dad on the other hand is one who, from the time I met him, wondered aimlessly through life for much of his life without any specific positive direction. In retrospect, I believe I owe my determination to survive to my mother and my ability to walk away from situations at the drop of a hat is thanks to my dad. Nevertheless, I remember vividly how Mother would bend over backwards to provide and protect me and my brothers. There were times in my childhood I felt like I would choke from Mother’s protection. She did not give me what I wanted and there were times, we had confrontations about what I thought I was entitled to have. My necessities always prevailed because she always won those battles. I grew up feeling unappreciative for what Mother did for me, at least, until as a single parent I struggled with my own children’s educational, medical and other expenses. From childhood until college age, my accepted norm for family life was having my Mother provide for me and my siblings. To this, there was one exception to the rule, one pair of shoes.
By Nikao Faith9 years ago in Families
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome
Presently, I am looking back to years lost in my life. Chunks of time that I can not remember, some wishing I could forget. I was a reactive person, meaning not thinking about anything before I had time to make a rational, thought out plan. This on more than one occasion has landed me places most people see on television and confusion sets in. I've seen the dirtiest intentions of people who claimed to be a close friend. The wheels turning in the mind of a manipulator trying for another big score while standing side by side pretending to give a fuck about someone while leading them into a negative situation. Only pretending to console the hurt while pulling the strings in the background to benefit from the trap they set for you to walk into initially. The conniving slick plan of a person who has been a con artist simply waiting for your demise. Circling like a starved desert vulture, waiting for the right time to pounce on a carcass that has been picked over by bigger, stronger creatures. Creatures that have just taken the good parts and left this shell laying there with no regard to the respect that once beating heart deserved. A quick dive towards the dirt, gliding to the nearest spot with easy access to feast and flee when satisfied.
By Amanda Kuhl9 years ago in Families
On Being an Elder
I had a moment with my almost three year old grandson yesterday. I was taking him to the car for our ‘Granny day out’ and he hauled off and hit me across the face, hard. I was shocked and surprised as I have only ever experienced the sweetest of hugs from my little guy.
By Krow Fischer9 years ago in Families
My Kid, Your Kids, and Smartphones
So I was having communication problems with my daughter. It seemed that for some reason she just couldn’t follow any of my simple and very reasonable commands. Whether it was cleaning up behind herself or reporting an issue involving her younger siblings, Haylee proved irresponsible and it finally made me wonder why.
By Aquila Sharpless9 years ago in Families
They're Children NOT Assholes
The Goldbergs is one of my favourite shows. I always love watching an episode to lift me up in that light-hearted way where you know there’s a schmaltzy, feel-good ending with a valuable lesson about what it means to be a family and love each other no matter what’s said or done throughout. I admit that I’ve often cringe-smiled at the part where inevitably Murray, the father, will refer exasperatedly to his boys as "the morons" while looking theatrically pained at something they’ve done or not done to affect his peace of mind and time in front of the television. All in all, it’s a show that delivers what it promises; a satirical representation of how the previous generation did things.
By Abellona T9 years ago in Families
A Rant About My Family
You know what, sure, my depression is being worsened by you telling me to drop out of the one school in the one town I’ve finally found a home and a family in. It’s you telling me that I don’t have a future for myself because my boyfriend’s life is expensive, because of your ungodly transphobia and unwillingness to learn anything. It’s you telling me you think me going home to where I’ve proven I’m happy is going to cause me to kill myself and you want to keep an eye on me, because I’m obviously /so much happier/ in this fucking town. It’s you telling me that I’m gorgeous, and there’s no reason for me to dress like a boy or try and pretend to be one, because Heaven forbid your child turn out to be trans. Heaven forbid your only daughter might not be your daughter after all, but aren’t I still your child? It’s you telling me that I’ve been straight for the past 5 years instead of queer like I’ve been identifying because I’ve been in three long term relationships with men.
By skittly boo9 years ago in Families
Caskets & Sandboxes
How can one moment, a single act change a person. Shake them to the core and rattle loose every part of them? How do you come back after dancing with the devil in a romanticized love story that the interest of his afflictions becomes this addiction? When does moderation become maintenance? How can you break up with the one thing that can make you feel. A break from the numbness, a sliver of hope in regaining some normalcy in the chaos that swallows you? Dancing in the shadows, praying it would end. The torture of giving away a love stronger than any fairytale happy ending. How do you grieve and remember without losing tour fucking mind?
By Amanda Kuhl9 years ago in Families
