parents

The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.

The Hands That Moulded Me
Tuesday, October 30th, 2018, the residents of Ologbo a community in Edo state in Nigeria were hit with the story that defined debauchery in a way that made them questioned what the lowest depth of moral depravity could possibly be. Akpobome, 18 years, greedy and unkept with tangling hair receding from his forehead, baldness caused by malnutrition has just committed a crime that equates viciousness in the negative extreme. He woke up early that morning with one single ambition – the readiness to obey the instructions of a native doctor, an herbalist he visited few days prior, instructions packed in perversion. He wanted to be wealthy. In Nigeria like many other parts of the world where the poverty gap is so wide, the value attached to money could be higher than life. He painted that morning with gloom with the blood of his mother by taking her life and doing to her corpse something unthinkable. His grandmother found out when she came visiting. Here him out,
By Joseph Ovwemuvwose5 years ago in Families
It is okay to be the boss
When I was growing up both my parents worked, and in my community that was not so common. I was the first to school, bright and early before the sun came up, then I was the last to leave. My mom would drop me off on her way to work and my dad would pick me up on his way home. At the time, I hated this. I did not like being the first and last at everything. I saw all these other girls getting picked up by their mom and taken out for an after-school snack. I never got any of that, and I resented my parents for it during my school years.
By Sarah O5 years ago in Families
Mother, May I?
My mother didn't want to be a mother at first. It was after she felt a sense of pride about me as her child - that's when she started enjoying her "mother" status. My grandmother always offered unconditional love and protection, but my mother was different. She was my teacher and coach, which meant that she could not always offer lovey-dovey mushy stuff, and sometimes she had to teach discipline, which did not resemble protection. In symbolic terms, she was like a dragon fiercely interested in her status as guardian of the "prize" - me. I would not accomplish "prize" status unless she accomplished her mission of teaching me and disciplining me enough to be the "prize".
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman5 years ago in Families
Advocate for Autism
"He's just a normal child!" No single phrase has defined my life in more profound ways than this one. Loaded with criticism, belittlement, trivialisation, dismissal and ignorance.
By Monique Green5 years ago in Families
15 Lessons
There was a blue cartoon bull on a show I watched when I was little. He had a ring through his nose and would blow puffs of white smoke out of his huge nostrils every time he saw red. My mother saw red a lot. When she became angry at me or my sister or even just life in general, I would sometimes envision that blue bull’s face over hers and would then have to fight back a giggle. She’d see me pursing my lips wide-eyed as I watched the bull pacing around the room, a slim cigarette perched between long maroon nails and she’d say, “It’s fine to think whatever you want inside your head but you damn well better be careful what you say.” That was lesson number 1.
By SJ Howe5 years ago in Families
4 Times My Mother Helped Me Become a Better Person
I watch her take a seat at the piano. It’s old and slightly out of tune, but it still works. Her fingers dance over the keys as she starts to sing,
By Courtney Burry5 years ago in Families
Plants Grow in Darkness Too
It may seem strange to enter into a challenge dedicated to gratitude for #bossmoms when you have such a strained and difficult relationship with your mother, however, though strained, it is that very relationship that has shaped me to be the woman that I am proud to be today. I was raised by a woman who by all accounts most would classify as a "boss mom", she worked hard as a single parent raising four children, while working a full time job in the medical field, buying a home and attaining her second degree. She sent us to the best schools, made sure we attended cultured events , kept the utilities on and the fridge stocked. But behind the scenes she was struggling with keeping up the appearance of being a strong black woman, which afforded her little to no opportunity to take a breathe and acknowledge that she was overwhelmed, lonely and depressed. As a mother now myself, I could only imagine raising 4 children without reaching out for a support system because the need to be strong took precedence over the very real need to be human. As her children, we bore the brunt of that outlet for her to release all of her pent up emotions in sometimes very traumatizing ways. Yet in still, I am grateful to her for what I have learned in being her daughter.
By A Alex5 years ago in Families
Mom and I - Acquired Relationship
I am my Father's daughter. And as I grow older, I am finding how much like him I am—hopefully, an improved version. I have so many of his mannerisms that I can predict with almost 99% accuracy what he is thinking or saying. Growing up, I looked up to my dad, and he was/is my best friend. I would tell him everything and still, to this day, do so. And he never judged me or told me what to do - which is probably why I told him everything.
By Anu Sundaram5 years ago in Families
Maureen
I have a photo that I brought back from my dad and my stepmums' after a recent visit. It's a photo of my mum when me and my brotheres were still kids. I was 4 and my mum 36.We were on holiday in Wales.My mum is standing in the middle of the picture. Infront there lies a white wooden farm fence that rests to one side, inviting you into the scene.Behind it a golden field, blushed red by the sun.My mum stands in the centre, a slightly distant figure, her face blurred, she looks almost like a painting as her red anorak stands out with a striking stillness.I look at the photo and take a magnifying glass to see her face more clearly.It becomes something like a ghost story as I feel like I'm looking at myself, it could easily be me! Something in her stance, the way she has her hair, the long features.I might even choose the same clothes, but it is her, my mum ,Maureen. What a life she led.
By Louise5 years ago in Families
My Master Behind The Chair
I am sitting in the Hairstylist chair typing this on my computer on a Saturday evening, as Ella Fitzgerald croons to, " Under a Blanket of Blue" in the background. I am done with all the hair appointments for the day, and it feels great! The stylist station has been cleaned up, and the towels are running in the laundry. All the color bowls are washed and drying, my tools have been disinfected, and the hardwood floor has been swept and mopped. The studio is wrapped in peace, and a tranquil mood sets in as I dim the lights. I feel a sense of fulfilment wash over me, having put in a full day's worth of work.
By Moi Li5 years ago in Families
Thank You, Mom
As an adopted child, I was undeniably blessed to have the parents that raised me. I can’t even begin to imagine how my life could have been different – or not at all.
By The Bantering Welshman5 years ago in Families
Mother Nature
BOSS MOM Where would I be without the woman I call ‘mom’? For one, probably not even in existence, that’s a bit of the bird and bees talk, but I’ll refrain from that, for obvious reasons. Long story short, she is the human that carried me for 9 months and gave me life, (something I am often reminded when I get on her nerves) “I gave you life, and Lord knows I can take.” She rages on.
By Fernando5 years ago in Families