amotherworld.com
-
as posted on www.amotherworld.com I spy my husband’s truck pulling around to our home. I see the red balloons bopping up in the passenger’s seat. I do not tell our daughters that daddy will be home any minute. A smile reaches my lips when I recall the Valentine’s Days of our past, or rather before…
-
Finally, I could put my feet up and relax. The monitor is on and wine is poured. Hubby is making sure our oldest is snug in bed. I grab the remote to find something mindless to watch. I flip and discover’ Liberty Stands Still.’ A lifetime ago I did work on that movie. I…
-
How we eat out with our kids. After the passionate discussion this month, I was asked by readers how we manage to eat out with our young kids. We do go to Starbucks and eat out twice a month. It is a meal-off for me and creates a memory for our kids. Often managers or…
-
previously posted on amotherworld.com Most days I let hot topics that I read go because I do not want to add fuel to the fire. It is interesting how some write opinions that they would never say in a face to face conversation. The hot topic this past week did ruffle me. The subject is…
-
I settle my two and four-year-old hungry daughters at the last available Starbucks table. I dish out the treats and pull out their waters from my bag. I sit myself in between them and exhale out loud. Sipping my coffee, I spy a very pregnant lady sitting at the table beside us looking at my…
-
I hit the road after the tea. I breathe slowly as I turn the corner to pick up my younger daughter from the neighbor’s house. With all my trepidation about leaving her, my older daughter loved having me to herself. The Tea went great. The songs the class performed were beautiful. The tea and strawberry…
-
The look on my four-year-old daughter’s face says it all. She just handed me an invite in the shape of a tea cup with her hand written letters on the front, “Mommy.” It invites me to the pre-school’s Mother’s Day Tea for the first hour of class. At the bottom in italics, No siblings please.…
-
As posted this week at amotherworld.com The tears race down my cheeks uncensored. The shock allows the floodgates to open before I realize my 4 year old is watching me. I warble out to my husband who is steps away, “He died.” I feel paralyzed in the living room chair. My husband comes over to…