parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
My Boots Are My Roots
I could say all the cliche things to grab your attention. I could paint a fake image of the cowboy life that I grew up in. But, none of that would be me, and that would be a disservice to the way I was raised and taught. I grew up surrounded by my parents, nature, and literally, on horseback. Don't quite get what I mean? Check out the main picture... yup. That's me in the knapsack with my dad at eight months old out in Kananaskis country in Alberta. Most of my childhood memories revolve around nature and family. If we weren't camping, we were on horses. If it wasn't that then it was helping dad with projects around the house. My world was learning, all types of skills, from how to hammer a nail to asking critical thoughtful questions about tough topics like politics, history, and philosophy. I was always encouraged to do well in school and if I was curious, at the time, "Google it" wasn't a phrase yet, grab a dictionary, or an encyclopedia and learn about it.
By Steven Altman7 years ago in Families
Our Parents
As I sat there in my bed, the night before this speech was due, my mind started spinning. What topic interested me? What topic would captivate my audience? After not being able to think of a good topic, I began to think about my previous speeches. I remembered asking my parents what their opinion was on millennials when I was in the midst of writing that speech and with their answer it led me to realize how different our mindsets are. And with that thought in mind I had a topic to write about.
By Shterna Botnick7 years ago in Families
The Final Act
I think about my dad the most when I am driving. When the windows are down and the sun is up and the music is too loud. I think about him driving, and how my driving is very similar to his. I don’t weave in and out of traffic, I rarely speed more than a reasonable amount, and if the car is not a standard my left foot is almost always on the dashboard. I always roll the windows down, and never use the air conditioning. I always have music or an audio book on and I am forever doing something else. It used to be that I was smoking and looking at the map, but these days, in my old age, it has turned to drinking coffee and checking the GPS. Like him, I prefer a standard shift, but I live in a city of remarkable hills, so it is not always practical to do so. I think about him most when I am driving because in my 30 years with him, I spent most of that time in the car. We were always going somewhere. To the store, to the park, to the beach, to family’s houses, friend's houses. My dad was rarely idle, and when he was it was usually because there was traffic on his way to somewhere else.
By Paige Graffunder7 years ago in Families
Mom, Leave Dad
2011. The year I witnessed my mom being thrown around like a rag doll. He punched her face multiple times, then continued punching her on the stomach. I remember sitting on the staircase, bawling my eyes out, screaming for my dad to stop. It was the worst day of my life. Still, she forgave him. I forgave him too, burying the memory as years passed by. The three of us went on road trips, ate on restaurants, pretended for a while that we were a normal family.
By vann van gogh7 years ago in Families
Moms Are Scared of Spiders, Too
No one really prepares you for parenthood. All those home classes you take in school are so easy to forget, especially when you never pay attention—except for the days you got to cook things... Now that was a day for full focus and empty bellies.
By Chelsie Divis7 years ago in Families
Fatherless
I don’t exactly know when I stopped considering my father to be my father. Maybe it was the first time my mom told me he had gone to jail. My four year old self looked up at her in anguish as I realized that he had never been on the “business trip” my mom had told me he had gone on in order to protect my heart. Or maybe it was the first time I had visited him when he got out. How he and his new wife spent everyday in bed smoking cigars and neglecting the seven year old girl they had under their roof. I had survived that week off of bologna sandwiches I made myself for a whole week because that’s the only thing I could find. I stopped eating bologna after that. Could it have been the last time I ever visited him in jail? My twelve year old self sitting across from him at the table with my sister beside me holding my hand as I tried so hard to keep the tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks at bay as he called me fat and ugly, and blamed me for him being in jail in the first place. Maybe if I had been a better daughter and not stressed him out so much he wouldn’t have turned to drugs and wouldn’t be in jail in the first place.
By Olivia Williams7 years ago in Families
The Working Mom Vs. Stay at Home Mom Debate
If you ask working moms who has it harder, they will probably say working while staying on top of their kids and home is the hardest, and if you ask a stay at home mom, they will probably tell you that nobody appreciates how much time and effort they have to put in and that they never get a break. So who really has is hardest? I was a stay at home mom for 16 wonderful months—it was awful, depressing, exhausting, and absolutely amazing all at the same time. I've now been a working mom for about 5 months. I never anticipated how much I would miss my son and how utterly jealous I would be watching other women step into MY role. Is it harder? In some ways yes. I miss a lot of milestones and quality time, and I have to deal with frustration and trust issues when his teachers don't do as I've asked or do things I didn't even know I was uncomfortable with yet. Sometimes it's also especially easier.
By Catherine Luna7 years ago in Families
