Tag Archives: families

Hidden truth about motherhood #4 It’s a journey


Tree Lined Road

When the body makes peace with all the changes to come, a sudden rest takes over. A small bit of bliss gives hope to the life forming within. Most women for the first time stand with their hips forward. They push their gut out and their hands rub their belly. Truthfully there is nothing to show, except that it’s well to gain weight and to loosen a bit. Other women work hard to delay the process. It is a defeat they will not take lightly. No one will say what their body will look like and have dominion over it. We find these two standing beside each other, one comments of how wonderful the changes will be, the other comments on her efforts to support her current lifestyle. There is of course a third, who waits and perseveres to hear her good news. She passes all the tests, she knows her choices and as she looks around at the mothers that will carry their own, her own another will carry. Hers will be one born of her loving heart, her body unaffected but her heart continually struggles. Her heart will bear the stretch marks as she waits. How will these relate when in the end they will  hold in their hands someone they expected but could truly never know what it takes to rear it. A child will change their lives but how it will, they are still learning. Guts out, work outs or hearts yearning, let your journey inspire another.

Author note: Do not let your journey be a private one. Can someone’s wisdom inspire you or can you inspire another? We have all different approaches and beliefs, however we share one common goal to love our children.


Grown ups don’t have fits


little boy crying

She remembers when she saw other moms and their kids having fits at the store and saying, “that wont be me.” She has a plan, a system and a confidence that she will not join the clans of wild children and their weak moms. Her one year old begins to express his likes and dislikes and she enjoys his independence. This day follows a different routine, their normal routine does not meet the demands of the day. Her independent son shows great dislike for the errands they have to make. He turns red, throws himself on the floor, screams and flaps his arms and legs. She rushes to him and picks him up. He arches his back and she almost drops him to the floor. She runs to the car like her child could be dying and they both sit in the backseat of the car catching their breath.

She composes herself and talks with him about proper behavior. They arrive home and as she reviews her choice words in her head, she talks to him once more.
“One day you’ll be a grown up and grown ups don’t have fits.” She says to him confident that the event is over and they can enter their home in peace.
Inside by the front door a man grunts, throwing his fists in the air and clenching every muscle in his arms and legs.
“I could just punch a hole in these walls.” He throws the cellphone in his hands to the couch.
She looks down at her son who watches his dad and then smiles at her.

Author’s note: Yes, grown ups don’t have fits. Who believes that? I remember a few I had just a week ago. Sometimes life is hard and too complicated but it’s also funny to know that since kids we’ve all dealt with the things we don’t like but continue to persevere and move forward.

Hidden truth about motherhood # 2 The first advice


danger thin ice

     Fear thy name is mother. Motherhood begins with incredible news and devastating warnings. The first advice may come from this first fear, loss. Many women know too well the fear and the reality of loss. Their tender hearts encourage the first time mothers even though they need encouraging as well. However, the first motherhood advice can overshadow the wonderful news to delay for the ‘just in case’ situation.

      “Sandy, the first 12 weeks are critical, make sure you take care of yourself and get informed.” The doctor places his hand on her shoulder and shakes her husband’s hand.
      “And congratulations.” He walks away.
      “We gotta get books, magazines and subscribe to all the things they have listed on the resource list.” The mother to be jumps from the examining table.
      “Alright, we got time.” Her husbands stands up from his comfy chair.
 As they walk out, they see an acquaintance.
      “I didn’t know this was your doctor too.” She says while filling out forms.
      “Mrs. Gaines here is information about the first trimester and our contact list.” The secretary speaks to the mother to be.
      “You’re pregnant, congratulations, but I’m sure you don’t want anyone to know yet right? You probably just found out and you never know…”
      “Why not?”
      “Miscarriage sweetie, its like every 4 out of 5 women miscarry on their first.”
 Sandy looks about the room. There are three pregnant women in their last trimester waiting plus the old acquaintance. She would be the fifth or fourth.
      “So who should we tell first?” He holds his phone as he takes a picture of the positive pregnancy test.
      “No one, I guess.” She sits in their sofa and drops to the side to rest only half of her body.
      “It’s our news, don’t let the hag scare you.” He watches space out. “Even if, we shouldn’t be afraid and hope for the best.”   He holds her again for another crying session.

 Author’s note: When blessings come, a voice of ‘well meaning’ warnings may crush the joy of them. Believe the blessing, enjoy the joy and don’t allow fear to overshadow the good things.

Hidden truths about motherhood #1


pregnancy test

TTC=Trying to conceive

(Half the battle of motherhood begins in understanding what every other mom already seems to know, the acronyms).
The trying fun begins, where some don’t even have to try. Time passes and the fervent expectancy turns to worry. Glowing sticks for measurement and accuracy reign in the closet. When temperature is best and the color shows just right, what was fun can become a task. A list of recommendations and traditions,  all to expect that glorious moment when you flop head to head over a toilet. For some a journey of self discovery begins as they find themselves insufficient in their efforts. No amount of hugs can comfort those that cannot, but the love of those around can shine a different perspective and new hope.  Others discover that in time their desire  is in fact shocking and scary.

“Once you’re there you can never take it back.” The TCO woman remembers what a coworker said earlier that day.

At home she tests once more. Their third attempt in a few months and its positive.

“Is that right?” She asks her husband.

“Yep.” He walks away and sits on the couch.

She holds the positive test in her hands shaking and sobs.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m going to be a mother.” She sits down on the floor crying.

“Yes, that’s what we wanted. Isn’t that good?”

“But I don’t know if I’m ready.” She bawls.

He walks toward her, laughs and holds her.

Author’s note: It’s funny when you find yourself where you want to be but have no clue how to live after that. Anyone know what that’s like?



Woman Confined Behind a Chain-Link Fence

So it begins, she thinks this morning she’ll sleep in and rest. The baby cries and calls her, she passes the ball. For weeks she desires to relaxation from her stressful life. Afterall, passing the ball is key to success in a team. Her teammate mumbles through the sheets, he’s sick. Tired from the day before she drags herself and smiles to the happy toddler who stretches his arms toward her. The day continues and subtle obstacles rise to the surface. She dodges the negativity and anger fits but her patience drips away. She chases the curious toddler around more obstacles. The first challenge of the day traps her behind closed doors. Alone battling the things that continue to pile, her strength weakens. She finds herself caged, her anger grows. She walks in circles. She comes up with quick games, which bore the little one. She walks outside and back inside. She thinks of a drive to somewhere, anywhere, but the car seat is not in the available car. She has no where she could go. Outside her window a beautiful day beckons her, if only there was a nearby park. Even nap time has no relief, as the baby boy refuses to sleep. Whether hunger, frustration or exhaustion, she giggles in her thoughts. She fantasizes on jumping on top of the weak husband while her child holds on to her leg. Ashamed at her thoughts she makes a call. She needs someone to bring about the right perspective, to help her calm her inward growls. She calls her mom.

Author’s note: Sometimes we just need to be children again and get help. Are you willing to be the kid and be guided in wisdom?

The Potato Peeler



“Casey can you help me here?”

Casey looks up, closes her computer and stands by the cook. The cook motions to her with her lips to the clump of potatoes on the right of the sink. She holds a chicken leg in her left hand and a knife on the right. Casey looks at the amount of potatoes and sighs.

“It’ll go quick. I just need them peeled for now.”

Casey opens one drawer, rummages through the miscellaneous items and slams it shut.

“How’s work going?”

“Its fine.” Casey keeps looking through other drawers, fanning through them and closing them again.

“That’s good.”

“Where is it?”

“Right here.” With her pinky finger the cook coils it around a slender knife and places it in front of Casey.

“What’s that?”

“The peeler.”

Casey smirks and stares at her with her nostrils flaring.

“Honey, that’s the peeler.”

“This so antiquated, how do you use this thing? Remind me to get you an actual peeler.”

Casey grabs the small knife and hacks at the skin of the potato. Every stoke stabs the potato instead of peeling it. She tries again and cuts chunks of the potatoes with the skin on them. She manages to  finish one potato and rushes to start on the other. The cook watches her while at the same time she dips the chicken legs into her special sauce. Casey slashes through the potato to her own skin. She yells, throws it in the sink and washes her hands. At the front door Miriam arrives with her three kids.

“What happened?”

Casey rushes upstairs holding her finger wrapped in tissue. Miriam removes the coats from the kids sends them off to play, kisses the cook and sees the potatoes.

“Did you get the roof looked at yet?”

“Yes, apparently it was something else. How’s Jimmy?”

“He’s fine, just a small cough.” Miriam peels every potato and washes her hands.

“Mom, Lanny needs to go.”

Miriam answers the call, walking by Casey wrapping a band-aid around her finger. Casey looks at the potatoes peeled. The cook smiles at her, but says nothing. Casey looks for another knife and slices each in silence.

Life Revealed


a soft rose

Her life is full of predictability. She wakes up and lies down at the same hours, she follows all of her appointments and every interaction is like the last. Recently, she notices her companions do not look familiar and she does not remember the regular events of the day. Her daily tasks seem unimportant and she would rather sleep than stay awake to see nothing of value happen. She writes diligently in her diary every event as the day progresses and the next day she reviews it with detail. Only the meals, clothes and familiar faces bring comfort. Though frustration with  her current state looms over her head, she keeps every day on the same pace. One day she could not remember anything from the day before, but she knew her diary would help. She grabs it and reads it aloud to her family member on her visit. She reads about her lunch and talk with Ivy down a few doors. She reads also about the letter she wrote to the president. Her visitor draws closer to hear the story. She goes on to read what she wrote the president on the current state of war. She plainly states that her family could lose their home unless the president takes action and ends the war. She leans forward to show the president’s response. He thanked her for her concern and assured her that he was doing the best he could to make life safer for her family. She smiles as she remembers that day, then a frown sneaks in. She becomes aware of the time. The event did not take place the day before. She was nine years old when she wrote to the president. She tries to change the conversation and looks about the room for somewhere to rest her tired eyes. Her visitor begins to ask her for more details on the president’s letter. She did not know her grandmother as well as she thought. The slip of time revealed a new depth to her life. The current troubles did not remind her of failure for she fascinates her granddaughter with fearless stories of her past.

May your past of this year, reveal a wiser individual in the coming year. Happy New Year!