Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Get in the Picture!
When visiting my parents house, it's easy to find a row of photo albums standing proudly on their bookshelf. There's a big box of photos, all in their paper envelopes, tucked in the cupboard. All of these photos are dated and were neatly organised by my mum. There are a plethora of photos of my Brother and I as babies, pictures of us as toddlers doing activities together, pictures of Christmas's and family holidays spent together. The entire dining room wall is a collage of my wedding pictures, my husband and I, my Brother and his girlfriend and various other combinations. There's a small photo frame on my mum's desk with a lovely picture of my dad in it, a picture of my dad hangs in the kitchen and the living room has various photo frames which once had pictures of my Dad going down a water slide on holiday with us, which have now been replaced with little pictures of my children. Photographs adorn the walls and surfaces of my parents house, a constant reminder of all the experiences that built a home piece by piece. Evidence that this family grew here, all around you are memories you can reach out and touch. I myself have taken after this; our walls have pictures of our family on them and I am slowly building my own collection of photo albums for the kids to look at when they are older. The thing is, when visiting my parents house, you are hard pressed to find many pictures of my mum. Sure, she's in the wedding pictures, but she didn't really have much of a choice there! The times she looks at a photo that she is in, it is usually a smile followed by a sigh as she picks herself apart. She can see the happiness and beauty when looking at any one of her loved ones, but spares any such kindness and nostalgia for herself, seeing instead all the things that she would change. Despite the fact that my mum was an ever present feature of our childhood, our childhood pictures are mostly with my dad. She bathed and dressed us, planned things for us, organised friends visits, fed us, did homework with us and moulded herself around us completely as mothers so often do. Even when working a demanding job, she tucked note cards into my bag and gave me trinkets like hug tokens (which I still hold dear). She was always there and yet somehow always invisible. When I had my kids, I realised I had started to do the same. I didn't want to be in pictures, preferring instead to take lots of photos of my kids with my husband. Don't get me wrong, I think it's wonderful to have lots of treasured memories with him, but why was I so adamant to be out of the picture? I'm a stay at home mum, I spend almost all of my life with them and they truly are my biggest source of joy. I realised that I was doing what we so often do and viewing myself as an unfinished project. Once my hair is better, if I was wearing makeup, once I've lost weight, if I was prepared for a photo. The list goes on. All reasons I gave myself of why I would ruin a photo. Something happened when I had kids, something which I think happens for a lot of people. I realised that my mum isn't a liar! All the times she told me she thought I was beautiful, that she was proud of something I'd done, that she thought I was good at something or that I was the most important thing in the world to her. I never believed her (due in large part to my mental illness but still) until I had kids. Then it all changed. I look at my relatively normal kids who do relatively normal things and yet it still smacks me as my own small miracle every time they giggle, or share a toy or try something new. I have never felt so proud of anyone or so unconditionally filled with love as I do towards my children. When anyone has children, they have the opportunity to see it was all true! Unfortunately, there is no such opportunity in the reverse. Parents will probably never truly believe what their kids say about them, the guilt and self doubt never ceases. However, I can say with absolute truth that when I look at my mother I don't see someone who was wearing something frumpy, or who was fat or looked a mess. I don't see any of the things she did. I see a woman who was my guide and my comfort, a woman who has grown to be my confidante and friend. Someone who was everything I needed in a mother, who now inspires me in my own journey of motherhood. I'm sure my own kids won't see me how I see myself when they are older. It is for this reason that I make a conscious effort not to duck out of photos. To turn and smile at the camera and when I see the picture afterwards, to try not to focus on my double chin and instead on the happy event happening in the picture. I know that is what my children will focus on when they look over them when they're older. I think it's time we all stayed in the photos more!
By Jaz Johnstone7 years ago in Families
Stop Saying "Single Mom"
I hate the term “single mother,” even though I guess I am one. I think saying “single mother” denotes weakness, a victim. That’s not me. I am a single woman with children, a divorced woman with children. I am a strong woman, like I’ve always been. My marital status doesn’t change that. I realize what I’m saying may be controversial to many, but quit playing the victim, even if you are one, become a victor.
By LittleFish BigPond7 years ago in Families
5 Things Not Say to a Single Mum
We could be in the 21st century and still single mums (I'm British if you find how I spell mum weird, get used it ha!) get a lot of flak. First, the media is our sown enemy, with no positive single mum representations. The descriptions of single mums are always the same; over worked, under-appreciated and unloved. While, ALL mothers whether happily married, living with a partner or single have felt some if not all these at some point in motherhood.
By Barbie Wambui7 years ago in Families
Traveling Without Kids
On the topic of traveling without children, it’s absolutely glorious! This is definitely a benefit of growing older. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, I really do. I took them on a lot of vacations, as well as road trips to museums, science centers, amusement parks, and historical sites. I enjoyed those times, I really did. But let’s face it, vacationing with kids is just taking care of kids in another location. Even if it’s the most beautiful and/or luxurious vacation, it was childcare. It was actually childcare on steroids. A different location with stranger danger, elusive bathrooms, whining, bickering, and sullen, unappreciative teenagers.
By LittleFish BigPond7 years ago in Families
Nursing
It took me a little over 15 weeks to come to grips with the fact that my mother was right..."We just aren't cows." I was determined though. Determined to prove her wrong, determined to not let the family statistics define me, determined to try every last hack or home remedy. The pain I suffered, the crazy nights of "he just finished eating", the helpless looks from my fiancé...it all wasn't for nothing. It was for the first 15 weeks of my son's life.
By Bryt Domine7 years ago in Families
Knowing You're Losing Someone
I burst into tears every time I hear the song "Supermarket Flowers" by Ed Sheeran. It hits me deep. I lost my mom to cancer, but I don't think that's why it hits me so hard. I was only three when she passed away; I didn't understand what was going on. Don't get me wrong, I miss my mom, but I don't really remember her being sick. But, since then, I've lost a lot of people very close to me. We've all had to experience losing someone, and if you haven't, I consider you very lucky. My friends and family told me during a particularly rough few months after a close family friend was diagnosed with cancer that I should be grateful that I knew what was coming and that I had time to mentally prepare myself for it. However, I honestly don't think there is any way to prepare yourself to lose someone that's close to you. In my personal experience, the knowing almost made it worse.
By Michelle Schultz7 years ago in Families
Dealing with a Toddler
If you’ve ever had to take care of a toddler, you know it can have its ups and it’s multiple downs. It’s ups mostly consisting of just the fact that it is your precious child and the occasional “I love you’s” and “you’re my best friend, mommy” moments. But the downs can be, to say the least, frustrating.
By Jessica Hong7 years ago in Families
A Grandson’s Tribute
Alma Katherine Hagan was born February 24, 1925 near Strode, Kentucky, the daughter of Erie and Nora Page Hagan. Along with her parents, brothers, sisters and Grandpa Brock Page, the rickety little house a short distance from old Rockbridge School swelled with life on the brink of the Great Depression. They worked hard raising gardens and a family on a tobacco income, moving several times before making a home on the George Carter farm in the curve on highway 1049. Grandma was the seventh of ten children—Neva, Clifton, Glaydell, Odell, Dale, Ruby, Katherine, Sarah, Chloe Eagle and James Wendall—with several not living until adulthood. With the exception of Chloe Eagle, Katherine survived them all. One of her earliest memories was hearing James Wendall crying. He did not live more than a few months.
By Drew Lindsey7 years ago in Families
