Happy First Year to My Twinsies

by DeAnna Scott

birthannouncement2

I’m exhausted.  I am sitting here surrounded by birthday presents, picking pieces of Gigglebellies carrot cake out of my hair, feet aching from an afternoon of running around, stomach rumbling because I forgot to eat and two 1 year olds safely tucked away in their cribs.  All in all, the first year birthday party was a complete success.  The guests enjoyed themselves and we survived.  The day wasn’t without its hiccups, but much like this first year, it has ended beautifully.

I honestly think part of my exhaustion this day is the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on these past several weeks remembering the journey that began one year and nine months ago.  It was then we learned our surrogate, Jess, was pregnant with our twins.   The absolute profoundness of our experiences, since we found out, makes me heady; weepy and excited, melancholy and cheerful – but totally intoxicated in awe and wonder! […]

The Language We Use (Regarding My Letter from Shutterfly.com)

by Rebecca Upton

Image by Karen G Image by Karen G

I love Shutterfly.com.

I live in a very rural community and therefore both really love and really rely upon online ordering for just about everything.  When I found out that you could order groceries online, it was miraculous.

I am not a huge fan of shopping to begin with and once I found myself living in a rural part of the country as a result of my job, managing my life online, the anonymity and rapidity of service seemed the logical solution and immensely appealing.

So, it was a bit of a surprise when last week Shutterfly sent me an apology – a personal apology.  Not because I had an erroneous order of photographs, note cards or address labels.  Not because I had a missing set of personalized gifts or family calendar unsent.  Not because a gift didn’t arrive in time for the Mother’s Day holiday that was on the horizon.

Shutterfly sent me an apology because the week prior they had congratulated me on becoming a mother! Great news, one might expect! How thoughtful! It was exciting! Except for the fact that I don’t have (but am working extremely hard to have) my own child/ren. […]

The Oy’s and Joys of Summer

by Wendy Sue Noah

It’s summer time!  YAY!

Wendy Sue Noah's kids at the beach

I used to say, when I was growing up, that things were very different.  Not only were we friendly with our neighbors, with all day play and sleep overs to boot, but if I disappeared for hours to explore the woods in our backyard and play with the inchworms or hang out in my favorite tree, there were no worries or concerns.

Now, our reality is so very different.  Even sending my kids to school all day, I have to go into faith when I kiss them goodbye, praying that these school shootings don’t reveal themselves in our town. […]

The True Gifts of Father’s Day

by Len Filppu

Len FilppuMy fatherhood style runs a strange range between Robert Young of Father Knows Best and Ozzy Osbourne, bat biter, so it’s always good for me to bounce ideas off other dads… even if I get back a twisted triangulation on my parental reality. I invited my friend Vern to join me for a pre-Father’s Day drink at my favorite watering hole.

While I repeated my order of a non-fat, no foam, decaf latte to the bustling barista, Vern grumbled, “I thought you invited me for a drink? That generally indicates alcohol. This place reminds me of a library.”  […]

Frumpy No More

by Deatra Haime Anderson

Deatra's bitstrip Deatra’s bitstrip

When I got married 10 years ago, I moved from New York City to a rural little upstate village where a livestock feed store is the main attraction. I brought with me my nearly life-long fashion sensibility and tried, in vain, to keep rocking my 3-inch stilettos, wedge heels and tight jeans. I hobbled along, even in the grocery store, where I ignored the sidelong glances from women dressed in (what looked like to me) pajama bottoms and shoes I’d wear as slippers.

And then I got pregnant. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I stopped holding in my stomach and discovered the mind-blowing comfort of elastic-waist pants. Part of the reason I loved being pregnant, besides the absolute joy of growing my daughter, was being able to wear whatever I wanted and not caring one single bit about my protruding belly. I put away my high-heeled shoes and strutted around in slides and flip flops. I wore my husband’s old button-down shirts and t-shirts and happily tossed on grandpa cardigans when I was chilly. I never felt freer or more comfortable in my life – it was glorious. […]

Stand and Be Recognized

by Jane Samuel

It’s that time of year again. Time to recognize our mothers.  To make them breakfast in bed, buy them expensive cards, mold clay into indiscernible lumpish presents at preschool, take them to tea or brunch or dinner, to kiss them, hug them, honor them.

But in my Momma heart it is time to fully consider them. To not only parade around and polish the shiny head’s side of the motherhood coin, but to turn it and look at its tail side too. To ask, and answer, something that perhaps we don’t consider enough – when is a woman a mother? […]

Mums, Moms and Mothering

by Ellie Stoneley

Mother's Day in England II’ve fallen foul of it several times. My brother, who lives in the Far East, gets it wrong every year. The confusion has resulted in quite the most incredible mother in the entire universe wondering what she’s done to deserve being forgotten on a day she should be the centre of attention. I’m talking about my mother, and about Mothering Sunday. Or is that Mothers Day, or perhaps Mother’s Day?

In the UK, we celebrate our Mums on a different day than when the US celebrates Moms. Back in Blighty, Mothering Sunday falls on the fourth Sunday in Lent, while in America (and most of the world), Mother’s Day is always on the second Sunday in May. Just to add to the muddle, in other countries, mothers are celebrated on special days throughout the year – from January in Myanmar to December in Panama and Indonesia.

Our current tradition of celebrating and thanking our mothers is consistent with the States, but the roots of the celebration are different again and in a fascinating and thought- provoking way. […]

Having Faith as a Mother

by Heather Griffiths

Scout and WalterLately, I’ve found myself internally struggling with the same two questions:  “Is motherhood all that I dreamed it would be?”  Yes, and then some!  “Did I ever imagine, in a million years, I would feel as blessed and as challenged as I do now?”– No, never!

This year, I have experienced more challenges as a mother than I ever have in the past. For example, in the past three days I’ve gone from the exhilaratingly proud moments where my son sings out his praise to God unabashed and passionately on the school’s stage to frustration and defeat when he is in the throes of a temper tantrum of epic proportions.   […]

This Is What Happiness Is…

by Aviva Luria

"Pickul Clan" “Pickul Clan”

“I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

– Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country

Someone posted the above quote by Kurt Vonnegut on Facebook recently and it truly spoke to me. I hadn’t encountered it before; although Kurt Vonnegut was one of my favorite authors in high school, I’ve read very little of him since. I loved him then because he made me laugh and think and view the world in a new, demented way, and this is likely at least partially why I am the way I am now: cynical but loving and tending to view the world in an odd, demented way.

Have you ever said to yourself, “I am happy now; this is what happiness is?” I’ve always thought it was a little odd that I do. I’ve long thought it was my writing tendency that so often made me feel as though I were standing apart from the scene in which I found myself, a somewhat impartial observer. Reading that quote made me realize that, even if that’s a strange thing to do, I’m not entirely alone. Kurt Vonnegut, at least, knew about that. […]

Finding Compassion in Motherhood

by Lora Freeman Williams

Lora's breastfeedingWhen I held my son in my arms for the first time, awe welled up within me as I gazed into his liquid, soulful his eyes. He returned my gaze, wailing to me just how difficult his journey had been, how shocking this moment was to him. I have never been so fully present a witness to someone’s story as I was at that moment.

As a new mother, I wanted to be that present to him every moment of his life to come. I was in my late 30s, educated, a Buddhist meditation practitioner and in recovery from a massively abusive childhood. I would be everything my mother was not able to be most of my childhood: present both physically and emotionally. I would give him the experience of having a parent witness his experiences with so much love that he would grow up to be deeply connected to himself and to others, trusting that the world is a safe place. […]

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