parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
Adults Should Be Able to Trick-Or-Treat, Too
Who said the holiday was just for little kids only? Was it greedy Grandma Judy or old fart Farmer Brown that had made this decision? I mean, we were ALL children at one time, weren’t we? So why can’t adults go trick-or-treating on Halloween night, too? I believe a lot of the stress level in adults would be totally eradicated if they were allowed to get dressed up into their favorite costume after work, put on their most comfortable walking shoes, grab their durable trick-or-treat bag and start hitting the pavement along with the other kids and cool, creative adults. I mean, it’s only one time in the entire year that Halloween exists, so what in the world is the problem? It’s simply madness. Department stores across the world, whether it’s in a retail storefront or online, sell Halloween costumes for adults to wear all year long. Why do we wear them just for the kids or for personal parties? Why is it also only good to wear for comic/toy conventions to look like Super Mario or impersonate Darth Vader? Why can’t adults trick-or-treat too if they choose to, and why do the other adults frown if an adult tries to do it? Adults shouldn’t succumbed to only giving out bowls of candy and taking pictures at their house. They should have the right to choose and be a part of the trick-or-treating festivities if they choose to do it. What happened with the freedom of expression?
By Kathy Lester8 years ago in Families
Deserted Playground
Ten o’clock in the morning is a lonely time for a playground. It doesn’t matter the time of year it is or what school schedules look like. It’s just not typically a time when children are out and about. My particular child has the need to get his sillies out at this particular time of day. It wasn’t that long ago this was nap time. This works out for me, too, because it is mid-morning when I find the day at its most brilliant. It’s a pity more people don’t get a chance to enjoy more beautiful spring mornings like this in such a way.
By Paige Pitcher8 years ago in Families
30 Things I Know Right Now
That title is a little deceiving, because if I'm going to be honest with myself (and all of you), I know little to nothing about raising children. I've been doing it for only 2+ years. They're eight and three and I'm their guardian. While sometimes I blame this lack of "perfection" on not having a natural motherly instinct from being prego, and getting swollen feet, irrational cravings and feeling kicks and tumbles from that alien inside me... after being around the sun twice with these little gremlins (I mean angels), there are a few things I feel as though I have come to perfect.
By Lindsie Polhemus8 years ago in Families
Dear Father
Dear Father, We might have always come as a package deal, but it wasn't a package I asked for. One that you accidentally order from amazon, realize it wasn't something you wanted, and ask for a refund. It was always about you, everything was always about you. It's bull that nobody remembers me. You don't remember the important days like my birthday, or the mere fact I requested the smallest and simplest present to begin with. I asked for my favorite meal with my family. Yet, you have a whole venue rented for your birthday that isn't for a whole month. All your friends get to come and spend that time with you. I sat at home, with no friends because you told me all my friends were terrible people and I didn't need to be around them. I sat at home and cried while you went to work and had an office party. I slept all night until you came home, hoping maybe you'd ask how my day was, but I got nothing but an attitude when you arrived home. I have sacrificed everything in order to make you happy, nonetheless you can't sacrifice 40 dollars in order to have a meal with your daughter and family; but have no issue dropping 40 on a meal for two. I'm tired of always coming in last. I'm always second to you and it should never be that way. As your child, I'm always supposed to come first. But nobody seems to think about me unless it's about you. None of my family associates with me because of you, but according to you you never did anything wrong. Your son hates you, all because you did nothing wrong. I was a liar because you beat me for years after mom died, but you did nothing wrong. I had to deliberately hide my identity, hide where I lived, and who I associated with because you did nothing wrong. I've given you ample times to redeem yourself, and this is the last straw. You start off the first few weeks OK, like you've made improvements. Then, as if a switch flicks off, move on like you didn't change a damn thing. I bite my tongue, and let you yell at me in rage and let you do what you have to do to release steam. But I've had enough, and honestly, I've told people the reason I tried to kill myself the first time was because I was getting bullied. But it wasn't just the bullying, it was the torment I came home to. And it may sound selfish, but you haven't given me a reason to be here. I have given up my entire life to try and make our relationship work. I've bitten my tongue to make it work, I've played the stupid game you know how to play so well. You are not who you claim to be behind closed doors. I've given my life to make our relationship work, after all you're the last parent I have. But honestly, once I get my life together, I'm leaving. I want nothing to do with you, and that's a serious notion to claim. But I mean it, once I don't have to deal with your game, I won't, and you'll lose the last child you had a chance with. I will never let another man treat me the way you have. I will not let another man tear me apart as you have, and I damn well refuse to let you be the downfall of me. I should have taken my brothers advice and gotten out when I could have. But because I was taught that being kind is the way I should be, I ruined my own life to make you happy. And to think, the thing that started this whole letter was the fact that you refused to spend any time with me for my birthday? It's funny how many years I've given up to make you happy, but you can't give up 45 minutes of your life for me.
By Crysta Miracle8 years ago in Families
What Is a Mother
I was not allowed more than a few years with my mother. I don't remember much, and what I do remember is fuzzy. I remember pizza, ice cream, but having a lot of "time out" as well. I also remember dark nights curled up next to her after having nightmares, and hearing her talk about someday buying the house she had rented out. It was obvious that my mother worked hard. She had a hard life dealing with abusive boyfriends, an underpaying job, and two children. I never understood that at the time, so looking back I wish I had more positive experiences with her.
By Buck Mobbs8 years ago in Families
Growing Up Without a Father
I grew up in a fatherless home. My dad had his "new family" as I called them. He pushed me to the back burner and forgot about me. A tremendous impact that I never want to feel again. Growing up without that dad role has given me so many challenges with guys that I've dealt with over the years.
By Jennifer Rubey8 years ago in Families
Me First, Momma After
This is pretty self-explanatory and something I’ve struggled with since my first child was born. I brought my daughter into this world when I was 21 years old. I was young, I was in a failing relationship, and I honestly had no idea who I was. I hadn’t yet begun to discover the things that made up my character, and I was still emotionally struggling from demons that I couldn’t leave in the past. My priorities were work, how much beer I had in my fridge, and what my plans were for the coming weekend. The second the doctors laied my daughter on my chest, everything for me changed. All of my priorities shifted and everything that I had ever cared about emptied itself from my mind. She became all that I knew and literally my only concern. I didn’t know it yet, but that was mother's instinct and I completely consumed myself in it. My daughter is almost three years old, and I didn’t start to discover that I was doing this all wrong until just this past year.
By Ashleigh Corriveau8 years ago in Families
Family Man
As a child, this man had a soft soul. He spread his talents around with his dedication to love and hard work. This boy had a soft heart and shared his happiness as much as he could. No matter what he went through, his love kept him strong and moving forward. This man I had the privilege to call my dad.
By Sierra Costanzo8 years ago in Families
The Mom Who Is Always Yelling
Today is a bad day. Why am I yelling so much? Did I sleep enough? Does it make me a bad mom? Am I a bad mom...? I yell so much lately that some nights my throat is raw from just trying to get my kids to stop hurting each other, me, or really just to listen. Excuses... that's all I see: my childhood maybe—it was rough, a lot more so than others; maybe it's just who I am—the mean mom who always yells at her kids....
By Kat Peirce8 years ago in Families
They Called It...
Just over three years ago I, for the 1 million-and-tenth time, had to explain to my baby girl how her daddy wasn’t actually coming to get her again. That was the day I decided enough was enough and he wasn’t going to hurt her ever again. Not if I could help it.
By Secret Serenity8 years ago in Families
How Heroin Destroyed My Life
By reading the title I assume you think me doing Heroin destroyed my life? Or why do I capitalize the h in Heroin. Let's start with introducing Heroin. It's a powder, it's white, it's a girl. I've always called her MISS Heroin; because she'll deceive you, she'll lie, she'll get you to steal and con your loved ones. Well, until they're dead; or find their way around MISS Heroin. Sadly my parents did not.
By Destiny Watson8 years ago in Families
