by Betsy at Gray Matters Matter
Posted on September 4, 2007


Tomorrow will be my son’s last first day of second grade.

It got me thinking about the bittersweet feelings that accompany every new chapter of our children’s lives.

The last first word they’ll every say.

The last first step they’ll ever take.

Usually these moments fill us with such unimaginable pride that we don’t realize until later, sometimes much much later, that there’s also a little sadness in the finality of those moments.

Tomorrow my son starts second grade.

Last night I laid in bed restless, anxious and sad.

I played my “movie montage” of his life, our lives as a family, in my head, from his first breath to him dominating my husband at video games last night.

I needed to feel close to him, like I wasn’t losing him. So I did something I haven’t done in a very long time, I went into his bed and snuggled him while he was sound asleep. Read more...

Attention all mothers:

by Stephanie at NieNie
Posted on August 28, 2007

Is this what your life
looks like at 7:56 pm?

Read more...

Lights Out

by Amywojo at Binkytown
Posted on August 23, 2007

I walked into the house, toddler whining "I wanna watch Thomas..". The (big) dog was underfoot (and legs). The wind was howling and the thunder was booming. The house was dark.

Okay, OKAY. Yes, Oliver, I see you. I'll feed you in a minute. YES little man, Thomas, I know. Just a second. Walking over to the light switch I turned the kitchen light on. YES, I know you want your binkys. One second please.

Flicker, flicker. Oh no. Don't you dare.

The lights came back on. Phew.

Then a flash of lightening. Lights out. Shit.

I call my husband. We have no power. Yeah, well, he says, I'm dodging trees as I'm driving home. Stop talking to me then, I say, just get home.

The trees are bent over. The thunder is growing louder and stronger. My son is becoming more afraid. Soon he is under a blanket, cover my head mama, he says. It's 90 degrees above the blanket and the air is literally dripping with humidity but it makes him feel safe, so I do it. I smash up next to him on the couch, letting him know I'm close. I pet his sweaty head through the blanket, telling him, shh. Everything is fine, you are safe, but I'm watching. Listening. I hear police sirens. Are those tornado sirens? I'm calculating how many steps it would take us to reach the basement. Read more...

chasing waterfalls

by Jen at one plus two
Posted on August 13, 2007

We took M to a place full of gardens and flowers and kid friendly natureish things yesterday. There was a gigantic manmade (although very natural looking) waterfall with a path that went around and behind the waterfall and during one section it allowed for much wetness. M and I went along the path and when we got to that part we ran through it quickly with heads down to avoid the water hitting us directly in our faces. As I looked back I noticed everyone else running through that part too, heads down. I turned to M and said you know, that's the part when we should be looking up instead of down because I bet the view is amazing. M agreed and so we went back around and when we got to the brink of the falls I picked her up and said ok, now look up into the water. i bet everyone misses this part. And we stood in the middle of the downpour with people running around us in a hurry to move through and we looked through the falls into the sky with water crashing down on our faces and M laughing hysterically. She loved it so much we did it two more times and were completely soaked.

And it struck me then that I spend a lot of time looking down when I should be looking up and I wonder how many waterfalls I am missing. And while it was a very small thing it made me want to try harder with M in those moments, to show her the other way around. It's easier to avoid the wet parts out of a desire to stay neat and clean and dry and I've decided I've missed so much beauty. And if it's taken me 37 years to unlearn this then I have to get my shit together now so M can learn to be free. Visit one plus two...

His Mountain

by Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer
Posted on August 9, 2007

I received special permission to blog this story.

Last week my oldest son learned the hard lesson that where a group of 10-year-old boys is gathered, someone gets chosen as the odd man out. In this case, it was Adam.

He was at a summer day camp, his first year to go. A certain group of boys, led by a ringleader we'll call Chuck, bullied him all week. It wasn't serious physical bullying--it was the kind that arguably hurts even worse. Adam was taunted and teased and excluded in ways that cut deeply. The camp counselors tried to intervene, but they're all a bunch of college kids not trained to deal with the dynamics of a bullying situation. They weren't a lot of help.

After the first day, we sat down with Adam and went through the list of how to handle a bully: standing up for yourself, teaming up with a friend, talking with the adults. We offered to get involved; he was insistent that he wanted to handle this himself. Though the Mama Bear in me was ready to lash out, instinct told me I should trust him on this one. Read more...

Almost

by Carrien at She Laughs at the Days
Posted on August 3, 2007

We almost didn’t go to the beach today. Even though we decided that for the summer Thursdays would be beach days, even though we usually meet friends and make a day of it, we almost didn’t make it. Our friends didn’t come, for one reason or another, and I was ready to cancel because the Baby didn’t go back to sleep until 5am, and she had woken up just as I was going to bed. I just wanted to stay in bed. The Boy also didn’t want to go. For whatever reason he began announcing that he just wanted to stay home. We almost didn’t go.

We almost didn’t spend a lazy afternoon near the waves in the perfect weather, hot sun, cool breeze, and just a touch chilly if we sat too long in the shade. The girl almost missed out on sitting in a sand throne, made just for her near her princess castle, by her aunt, uncle, and brother. She almost didn’t recline regally watching the waves and surveying her faithful and devoted subjects. Read More...

Finding a Moment for Myself

by Lisa at Niihaus
Posted on July 6, 2007

Yesterday it rained. It rained all day. But, not the usual Texas rain with thunder and lightning and high winds. It just rained. Straight down, falling drops of rain.

The Foreigner had gone, The Boy was gone, both The Girl and The Baby were gone. I was alone. In my own home. ALONE! Like that ever happens. And I stood there looking out at the rain falling. It fell into the pool and it looked inviting.

I still had my white nightgown on. I walked away from the window and I made myself some waffles, played a round of tanks on the Wii, but I found myself continuing to be drawn to the window. I thought to myself, “If it stops soon I won’t go out there.” But it didn’t stop. The soft rain just continued to come down in blinding sheets of wetness. Read more...

Past and Future July 4th

by Kelly at a child is born
Posted July 5, 2007

July 4th's past, my family would drive to the fairgrounds in our upstate NY town, find a parking spot and unload, getting out the blankets and towels and finding a patch of grass on which to perch. The sun had just about said goodnight, leaving behind dusky purple and pink and orange, and in that dying light, hard-shelled June bugs would fly around, thwapping unsuspecting patriotic revelers in the noggin.

It was a coarse kind of beauty, this waiting and wondering amongst creepy-crawlers and discarded cigarette butts, the anticipation of the visual and aural sensation of fireworks, the noise of which would drown out the sounds of us gathered humans, vulgar and ungracious. Read more...