Lifestyle
For the lives that we love, and everything that comes with it.
Parenting a Teenager
The night around them lay heavy. Every sound was something sinister... Oh, wait. Wrong story. This one is much more terrifying, I'm afraid - and there are no heroes. No one to save you. All you can do is walk slowly through the darkness, and pray for the light to come - and come it will, but it will take its dear time. "It can't be that bad." You think, scoffing at my title as you gaze lovingly at your rosy cheeked, adorable chubby fingered toddler. "My baby could never become the stuff nightmares are made of." I was that naive and delusional once - and then my child became a pre teen. She was so sweet, thoughtful, and considerate; every bit the angel that yours is right now. If I concentrate hard enough I can still remember the sound of her giggling, and how it felt to be her best friend, respected, the center of her world. Then, the inevitable happened. She became twelve, and Aunt Flo found her. Suddenly my sweet, considerate child became this hormonal, moody thing that only wanted me around if I was a convenience for her. Not just during "That time of the month." Oh no. Don't delude yourself into thinking it's only then. I went from momma to mom and when she's annoyed (which is oh so often) or mad Muh-Therrrr. Just like that. Just like how it's spelled. I assure you. Now instead of hugs, kisses, and smiles I get eye-rolling, huffing, and stomping, or - my personal favorite - the sarcastic, rude remarks and ever popular "must get the last word in no matter the cost."
By Jennifer Culbreth8 years ago in Families
Meet Loki
Hey there! I have always been dog-obsessed, I reckon so much so that my first word as a baby was probably "dog." I have had dogs all of my life, my first family dog was Chester. He was a beautiful redheaded boxer dog — I myself am a redhead too, so obviously we had a bond right away. I was only two years old when we got Chester as a puppy. Unfortunately, when I was around seven, my parents thought it was best to rehome Chester as he was left alone all day while my parents were working and me and my siblings were at school. Obviously at the time, I really was not happy about this situation, but looking back I know it was the fairest thing to do. Chester went to a home with another boxer dog and a family who had lots of time for him — luckily, we got to visit him sometimes too!
By Natalie And Loki8 years ago in Petlife
Parenting Without Using Physical Punishment
As promised in my last article, I’d like to share some ways of parenting children without using physical punishment that I learned both as a parent and a grandparent. This article is not designed to change your beliefs about smacking children: if you believe physical punishment works, then my goal is not to change your opinion, because as I stated in my first article I too used to hit my children. However, I do believe there are many parents out there who are looking for an alternative way of raising their kids. This one is for you!
By Mari-Louise Speirs8 years ago in Families
An Open Letter to Drugs
I remember sitting in a freezing car in the middle of Los Angeles, looking out of the car window at the homeless people that passed. Many of them walked by without a second glance, but a couple of them made direct eye contact and stared. Eventually they moved along, but my heart raced as I waited for my father to return to the car. As every homeless person passed, I imaged my dad in their torn clothes, begging people for money on the streets. To this day, I'm not sure why my young mind had placed him there, maybe it was just one of my worst fears playing tricks on me.
By Kasey Lomax8 years ago in Families
Transmisogynists Have Trans Women's Blood On Their Hands
Transmisogyny is growing like a cancer (and as someone who has had cancer, I’m allowed to say that). Everywhere on the internet and in the “real world,” I see transmisogynists undermining my trans sisters’ humanity and basic rights.
By Kimia Etemadi8 years ago in Viva
Gallantry and Gumption: Scarlett O’Hara
Gone with the Wind is a film many know of but few have seen. Its running time of just under four hours discourages many, as does the controversial setting of a pre-Emancipation Proclamation United States, and the fact that it is now over seven decades old. But if one overlooks these perceived flaws and sets aside 238 minutes of their time to watch Victor Fleming’s masterpiece, they will find an epic story of love, loss, passion, pride, and — above all else — resilience. This theme of resilience finds its home in the character of Scarlett O’Hara, the narrative’s protagonist and possibly one of the most iconic characters in American cinema.
By Fern Wigfield8 years ago in Viva
Mother Games.
“Tell me about your mother.” My relationship with my mother is an interesting one in the fact that it doesn’t really exist. And for everything one would assume couldn’t be said about the estrangement, there’s actually more than I like to admit. People are always saying I look exactly like her, and I never know what to do with that because they say it as if our comparable appearance is enough to constitute a relationship, or worse, as if I should somehow feel privileged. I guess it’s supposed to be a compliment; what girl wouldn’t want to be compared to her beautiful mother? I however find that looking at my mother is a little like looking at a reflection that moves when you do not. Rather than having some deep-rooted knowledge that allows us to know the other’s movements, there is an empty abyss leaving us completely disconnected. I realize that at some point I dwelled within her, everywhere she went and consuming every corner of her mind. Breathing her air and existing within her existence. But on that fateful day we were to separate she let go of me completely. A division that left a cavern somewhere in the center of my chest.
By Kim Gaines8 years ago in Families
