Posts Tagged Under children
Raising Children Without Religion
My dad is Lutheran, my mom is Jewish. My childhood exposed me to traditions from both denominations, but I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as religious.
Spiritual, yes. Religious, no.
At birth, I was given the Hebrew name “Chai,” which means life, but that’s as far as Judaism went. Sure, there were big Bar Mitzvah parties for my friends, but the only time my family lit a menorah was when we visited my grandmother’s house.
I do recall my dad’s Lutheran side of the family whispering nasty things about Jews, so I assumed my parents had come to some sort of understanding that religious rituals would not take place in our house, or maybe they just never spoke of it at all.
No, worship was not a part of my upbringing.
As for God, if he does exist, I’m still pretty angry with him. Witnessing the sudden death of my late husband, Erik, 29, on Easter Sunday of all days, would be enough to infuriate most people.
And, if there is a god, why would he condemn me for embracing my feelings? Or for questioning his existence?
By Hyla MolanderTime Warp
In reading all the heartfelt and funny-in-a-stressed-out-way blogs of Mamas raising young children and teenagers, I find myself reminiscing of times gone by when I, too, shared many of the same everyday experiences.
Thinking of how I stretched my patience to the max trying to appease my young children’s wishes for entertaining their many friends, taking on new extracurricular classes and being at their beck and call day and night, leaves me to wonder where that never-ending patience is now. Continue… »
By Cynthia RoveroOne Last Time
Note: Ruth Scott, a mother of five, grandmother of ten, devoted wife, author, and one of the original Writing Mamas, passed away unexpectedly, but peacefully, in her sleep on December 28, 2009. Ruth will be greatly missed. The Writing Mamas Salon will seem smaller without her wisdom, sage advice, quirky humor, and generous heart. She was dearly loved. In her memory, we are publishing one of her pieces about motherhood and life. You may read all of her work by going into the search field and entering her name, Ruth Scott. While you have moved on, Ruth, your words will live on. You have left many footprints and touched even more souls. You will be fondly remembed. Always.
–Dawn Yun, founder, The Writing Mamas
Here is Ruth’s piece on motherhood and life: Continue… »
By Ruth ScottYou Need Time Alone, But It’s Hard to Leave Your Child With Someone Else
I just dropped my sixteen-month-old off at daycare for the first time ever, and it was tricky. Before today, he’s only had one-on-one care, and I’ve only worked part-time from home. I did this so I could sneak peeks at our son, watch him develop, and take pleasure in the joys of his being.
The week before, weird emotions surfaced. Was this my own separation anxiety? Guilt over planning to spend less time with my child instead of more? Am I thrusting him into an environment he’s not prepared to deal with?
But I knew he was ready, and I needed to take this step. I would still keep him home on Thursdays, I rationalized. I would still see him grow and change. He needs to socialize now, and
I need to work a little more — we both need to grow.
Immortality Can Be Found Through Our Children
Many of us go rushing through life thinking we should do something important, be someone, and then we die and recycle back into another piece of the whole and what is remembered?
I think of my mom and remember her Angel Food Cake. No one ever has, or ever will, make one like it.
I have her recipe and I fail every time I try to make it; so do my daughters. With her flat, antique whipper she produced it joyfully to the end; partly because I had surpassed her in so many other endeavors as she grew older.
When her hands grew arthritic, the grandchildren did the whipping and under her direction they were prideful and successful. The cake was there when I had a birthday, when my children were born; when I came home after surgery, and always appreciated.
I remember my Dad for wonderful rowboat rides up Curly Creek where he spun extemporaneous stories of the Adventures of Princess Virginia, or recited Shakespeare, Kipling, and Robert Service aloud to any and all who would listen.
I knew the “Quality of Mercy” from “The Merchant of Venice” by heart, long before I could understand its meaning. I remember breakfasts where he starred as the chef, making imaginative pancakes where his thin batter somehow managed to spell out our names or take the form of balls and bats or monsters. Continue… »
By Ruth ScottReally, Is A Little Time Alone Too Much to Ask?!?!?!?!
It is nine Saturday morning and I long for a morning off.
“I’ll take them if you get them ready,” my husband offers.
Isn’t the whole point a break for me?
Why is it that any time, scheduled or last minute, that appears to be an opportunity for me to be alone — shrinks before my eyes? I am packing snacks, dressing children, loading backpacks, finding shoes, etc.
By adminThe Philosophy of Bad Timing
My four-year old takes the Asking Endless Questions stage seriously.
It Takes a Village?
When I first moved to our idyllic suburban neighborhood six-months pregnant, I imagined the cul-de-sac of my own youth. There were so many young families I was hoping for a commune of sorts.
I imagined trades and breaks and everybody pitching in to help each other. I really was counting on all of us raising our families together. Now, seven years later, I realize it is not meant to be. While I do feel a special bond with all mothers, especially moms with two children close in age, I realize there is a difference between proximity and convenience. Yes, I know all my neighbors, but that does not mean I like them. I have such a hard time asking, let alone accepting or feeling, like I deserve help.
When we were all pregnant at the same time and all new to the neighborhood, we formed quick friendships that I imagined growing over time as our families grew. But two siblings later, I still feel as if I am imposing if I ask a favor. The children do play together and there is one other family that we do regular trades with but it is nothing like I expected. More often than not I am stuck home with my own children. Why does it feel like such a chore?
By adminThe Mouths of Babes
Should we write down those little things our children say? I would say put them in a time capsule for eternity, but most likely it is only the genetically linked who would consider them darling or funny. That said, there have to be some gems that would make any parent go “ah.”
But I wasn’t so sure.
So, last night I decided to troll through years of e-mails from and to my college roommate, Andree. Fortunately, we live parallel lives — two involuntarily globetrotting Aussies with ankle-biters in tow.
By Robyn MurphyReminder
We live on a hill and to get to it you have to go up a beautiful street lined with Mediterranean style houses. While the houses are expansive, the street is not. It’s narrow with cars on either side.
Tragedy! Mimi, my 5-year old daughter, had fallen asleep. Not at 8 p.m. on a Sunday. That meant she would never go to bed at 9 p.m.
I turned to the right to shake her awake. As I did, the steering wheel must have turned to the left. BOOM!!!
By admin
