Luck, Fate, Divine Intervention. (Or whatever you want to call it…)

I’m happy I stumbled onto this blog today! Very powerful post!

 

Paddles, Pringles, and Paths

I’ve lived in the same community for ten years. My children spent a combined 8 years at the local high school. During this time I have gotten to know its people and after moving back “home” to Massachusetts for a brief six months, I came back here to this little New Hampshire town because I love it and this is home. This is where I raised my children. This is where our lives have been. I am one of its people.

When things happen in this town, we feel it. We feel it because, although it’s not a tiny little one stop-sign town, it IS a small town. Names hit the news and these were parents who sat with us on booster committees, the guy that runs the diner downtown, the kids that sat in classes with our kids. You may not KNOW these people, but you know them. And…

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I’m raising someone’s husband

Such a beautiful post! I know I feel this way, and I’m sure many of you other boy mom’s out there do as well!

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Oh Hey, Shenandoah

I’mraising someone’s husband.

This is the thought that’s been rocking my brain for the past few weeks. It doesn’t even need to be said that every new parent is petrified of what kind of job they’re going to do at raising their children, so here’s just one new momma’s inside look.

I grew up in a household where my parents were very good at expressing their love for each other. Never a phone call, a good bye, a hello, a good job – nothing in our household went without an “I love you.”

But, nothing lasts forever and what I thought was written in the stars, crumbled so suddenly it sent me into a frantic sense of being that nothing can last forever.

Now, I’ve made it a point that I will show my kids just how much I love their father. That even if they happen to…

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Proud Mommy Moment

Yet again, my oldest child had a small writing assignment and, in my opinion, did a great job!  Yes, I realize he’s mine and others may not be quite as optimistic about his writing ability as his momma…  But hey, if I can’t use my blog to promote my amazing boys, then what’s it for??

The assignment was to create a short story (about half a page), the only criteria given was that someone should be running from something..  Here’s what he wrote.

He ran after her.  Running for her life, she was terrified.  She looked behind her and there he was.  A mysterious, shadowy figure chasing her.  He looked to be at least seven feet tall and very muscular.  There seemed to be no break in the dim forest they were running through when suddenly she heard a deep grungy voice behind her yell CAROLINE!  She almost jumped out of her skin screaming.  How do you know me?  All of a sudden out of no where a river appeared in front of her.  She looked around and there was no place to hide and no place to run.  He gets to her and wraps his hands around her neck.  She can’t breath.  Her vision is going blurry.  She is still being choked.  She can’t see now.  Then suddenly, she wakes up.  Her mom is calling her so she isn’t late for school.  She was shaking all day.

Keep in mind, he’s 14 years old.  I did not do any editing to the story.  I feel like I should post it just as he wrote it.  It’s a very short little story, but that was the assignment.  I think it has quite a dark feel to it and I was starting to be concerned as I was reading it, but once I got to the end I realized he was describing that feeling more than anything else.. the feeling you can get from an intense dream such as this, or just the general claustrophobic feelings you can sometimes wake with.

I am posting this with his permission and will be sharing your comments with him.  Thank you for reading!

In my comment below, I mentioned another story he wrote and I posted.  It was not as easy as I expected to find it, so if you’d like to see more of his work, click here.

When You “Hate” Your Kids

So well put! I believe anyone with children can relate to this, whether we admit it or not!

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Peace Hacks

badKid

If you have kids you’ll understand what follows.  If you don’t, you’ll probably be horrified.  Rated rRated for less-than-good-parent language.

I have 3 kids.  A 4 year old. A five year old.  An eight year old.  Dark days indeed.  The fighting, whining, disrespect, property damage – all come part and parcel to parenting young children – regardless of what mad skills you might have in your quiver.

Of course I don’t hate my kids, nobody really does.  We just feel, let’s say, a very strong dislike towards them from time to time.  What’s funny/interesting is the difference between how we feel about them when they’re “good,” and how we feel about them when they’re not.  We get warm feelings when they’re playing nice, eating all their food, cleaning up, loving their siblings, sleeping – and very different feelings when they’re doing things that anger us.  They’re not so cute anymore.  The mere…

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