When you first separate, you are a big mess but you are full of hope that you’ll just manage everything well, mostly with the father of your children.
You have thought about this many times, when you have heard about friends or acquaintances getting a divorce and fighting like mad people over this or that, without a thought for their poor children, who are completely lost between Mum and Dad, not knowing where to go, what to believe, or how to feel about all of this.
You are good at reassuring yourself. You won’t go that way and you’ll do everything in your power to protect your kids in this painful situation. You are very good at telling yourself that what happened between you and your ex-husband has nothing to do with the father he is and the relationship he has or will have with his children. You think that it’ll be easy to make the distinction between the man and the dad. Until it’s not.
After our separation and all the tears I shed, all the pain I had to overcome, I was ready to let my boy’s father have a chance to know him and develop a harmonious relationship with him. It was tough at first, tough to put aside my feelings, every memory of what we went through as a couple. But I did it considering my child’s best interests.
And I opened a door, to give us all a chance to build a brighter future for our boy, knowing that this would be quite difficult for all of us, that we’d need to give it time and that we’d have to celebrate successes without taking failures too seriously.
After a while, after many ups and downs on the road, I realised that sometimes you can’t make it easier for your little ones. Sometime there is a deeper problem.
I still try my best not to say anything bad about my boy’s father in front of him. I try my best to keep my anger away from him. But I find it difficult to make the distinction between Dad and ex-husband – maybe because he is not much of a dad, because he does not make any effort to make things go smoothly. I still find it hard to talk to my boy about his dad with joy and happiness. And when I hear my precious one saying with his innocent voice, “I miss you, Dad”, it breaks my heart.
How do you manage shared time with the father of your kid? Did you stay in good terms? Do you find it hard to let father and kids have the space they deserve?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Marie Kleber of France. Photo credit to the author.
Marie is from France and is living near Paris, after spending 6 years in Irlande. She is a single mum of one, sharing her time between work, family life and writing, her passion. She already wrote 6 books in her native langage.
She loves reading, photography, meeting friends and sharing life experiences. She blogs about domestic abuse, parenting and poetry @https://mahshiandmarshmallow.wordpress.com
She was excited, my precious one. She skipped and danced, as we left the hospital. I had just explained to her, in careful wording, that she was now officially ‘disabled’. At the last tests, her eyesight was down to ten percent, which was substantially less than a bystander would judge. Most people don’t even notice she is 90 % blind.
She compensates a lot, the therapist confirmed. She constantly moves her head around to get a full view with the remaining ten percent. Her eye-brain-connection is still flexible and easily adjusts. She even unconsciously practices echo localisation. The scientist in me finds thàt extremely cool.
The overwhelmed mother, on the other hand, was nearly in tears. I had known what was coming. I had heard the forecast. I had seen the clouds. But still, the thunder unsettled me.
Disabled. The phrasing seems so inappropriate for her. She is so able!
She is in first grade now and struggles to learn how to read. Focusing on the letters is extremely tiring for her. She keeps losing track of the word she is reading, as it disappears in the 90 % cloudy view. She literally has to press her nose next to the word she is deciphering. Writing is even harder, with minimal sight to guide her hand.
But still, she keeps trying. For the last month, she has worked twice as hard as her classmates. She has begged for extra homework and practised until her neck was hurting too much from bending down. For now, she just craved to learn how to read.
So that’s what she did. Last Thursday, she passed her first reading test. Yes, she was far slower than her peers. But she passed. I’ve never been prouder.
As of today, with her official label of disabled, she is entitled to extra support, both at home and in school. We’ll get her a special, tilted desk to spare her neck. Binoculars to keep track of the writing on the board and other magnification aids. Learning will become easier for her from now on.
And no, she won’t get a cane and a dog just yet.
She wasn’t even disappointed and kept skipping, not noticing all the people who had to jump aside to let her pass.
I don’t need them anyway!
Instead, she asked for eye make-up.
You know, because the doctor said I have such lovely eyes.
She chose yellow, which turned golden on her skin.
Sunny clouded eyes.
How do you talk with your child about disabilities? Do you recognize the lightness of heart a child can deal with it?
If you ask her about her daytime job, Katinka will tell you all about the challenge of studying the fate of radioactive substances in the deep subsurface. Her most demanding and rewarding job however is raising four kids together with five other parents, each with their own quirks, wishes and (dis)abilities. As parenting and especially co-parenting involves a lot of letting go, she finds herself singing the theme song to Frozen over and over again, even when the kids are not even there...
“My grandmother told me that a woman is like the neck and the man is the head,” my student said. “Important but supportive.” The rest of the students in my class on “Global Women Writers” nodded their head in agreement. None of the students is from the same country—in fact, their nationalities pretty much span the globe—but apparently they’d all been given similar sorts of instructions. One girl had been told that she should plan on being an accountant because it would be easy to quit when she got married; another girl said that her mother worried that her brains were going to be threatening to her potential husband.
The list of readings is longer than what I have listed here—we will go to India, New Zealand, Egypt, Nigeria, and the UAE before the term is over—but the students have already noticed a pattern. No matter where we are in time and space, we find variations on the same theme: lack of access. Lack of access to money, education, safety, autonomy—the particulars may change, but always the obstacles seem rooted in the material reality of being female, and how the category of “woman” has been valued (or devalued) through the course of human history.
Sor Juana joined a convent so that she could pursue her studies instead of being forced into marriage and motherhood; Jane Eyre famously declared that women “feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties and a field for their efforts as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint … precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings…”
“I love Jane,” exclaimed one student when we read that passage in the novel. “It’s like she’s speaking to me!” When students respond to ideas in the course, I am always delighted, but in this instance, I had to pause.
What does it mean that the struggles of an early 19th century heroine still resonate with a 21st century reader? I know, of course, that men struggle with feeling limited in their choices—as I remind my students, “gender” is something everyone has (although I’ve noticed that when students talk about “gender roles” they mostly talk about women). All the same, however, wouldn’t you have thought that by 2015, we would laugh at the attitudes Jane complains about because they seem so old-fashioned? Instead we experience a flash of recognition that in Jane’s world, as in our own, society insists on placing boundaries around women’s lives.
When I proposed teaching this course, a colleague asked why I had to specify “women.” She wondered why I didn’t just teach a course called “The Global Novel” or something like that. It’s a reasonable question, I suppose, but I think the answer connects, in a way, to why the United Nations decided, two years ago, to declare 11 October the International Day of the Girl: “Empowerment of and investment in girls are key in breaking the cycle of discrimination and violence and in promoting and protecting the full and effective enjoyment of their human rights.” (Click here to see how World Moms Blog celebrated this day.)
Don’t get me wrong – I am the mother of two boys (and no daughters) and while I know that my sons face gender-related struggles, I also know (because I was once a girl, and am now verging on “crone”) that men have not been as systematically pushed to the margins of history. It’s why we have “Secretary Day,” in the U.S., rather than “CEO Day.” We create formal occasions to notice those who would otherwise be silenced, overlooked.
I teach “Global Women’s Writing” because we live in a world where “woman” gets all too easily pushed out of the picture. Ironically, I teach the course in hopes that one day I won’t need to. Perhaps my students–our children–will inherit a world where we don’t need “International Day of the Girl” or a course in “women” writers. Do you think we’ll ever get there?
This post is original to the World Moms’ Blog. Deborah Quinn occasionally blogs at mannahattamamma.com and writes a regular column for The National, the English-language paper of the UAE. Her most recent column can be found here.
After twenty-plus years in Manhattan, Deborah Quinn and her family moved to Abu Dhabi (in the United Arab Emirates), where she spends a great deal of time driving her sons back and forth to soccer practice. She writes about travel, politics, feminism, education, and the absurdities of living in a place where temperatures regularly go above 110F.
Deborah can also be found on her blog, Mannahattamamma.
Today, I am going to tell the story of Lalit Galle whom I met in the Cinnamon Islands in Sri Lanka. He is a cinnamon peeler.
Entry to Cinnamon Islands
So, this last May, we went as a family for a vacation to Sri Lanka. It is a beautiful; tropical country and nice place to spend some leisure. There are all kinds of things to do, and it was a great time for us as a family, because we all got to do something. One such memorable trip was a River Cruise across Madu River.
Cruising on Madu River
There are a lot of tiny islands strewn around in the Madu river. The Cinnamon Island is a large island with a lot of (you guessed it right) cinnamon trees. Its bark is used as a spice in tea, coffee, gravies, and pies. So, it is here that I met Mr. Lalit Galle, who works on the cinnamon inlands. While shaving away the bark from the stick of cinnamon, he explained that his salary is just 20,000 Sri Lankan rupees (142 USD) per month.
A beautiful traditional river house on the banks of Madu River
He continued to shave the cinnamon strips while explaining about the cost of living and that this meager salary is not sufficient for his sustenance. He needs at least 40,000 Sri Lankan rupees to get by. He has two children, a 9 year old daughter and a 2 year old son. His wife and children stay in another Island, Bentota, where he travels to every weekend. He stays for just a day with his family and leaves to return back to the Cinnamon Island where he is employed.
Yes, that is definitely tough to be away from his family.
Mr. Lalit Galle shaving his cinnamon stick
He explained that his wife does some odd jobs around Bentota Island to make ends meet while her parents and her in-laws take care of the kids during the day.
Mr. Lalit Galle shaving his cinnamon stick
As I left, he told me that, one day he dreams to be able to live together as a family with his wife and children.
Mr. Lalit Galle proudly displaying his cinnamon stick
So, why am I telling you all this story of Lalit?
Life has its ups and downs. And since a few days ago I was feeling down. I assure you all, it was nothing serious, just a phase. But here I was swamped in my own tiny little world, and letting things get me down. Lalit’s story made me realize how important it was to be thankful to hug my family.
#WorldMom Purnima and Mr. Lalit Galle at the Cinnamon Islands
Lalit Galle dream in life was to live as a family with his wife and children.
Yes, everyone has their troubles, their miseries, their ups and downs in life, and we must muddle through. Feelings and emotions cannot change. But then, we just need to move forward, and work it all out, somehow.
As we rowed away, bidding goodbye to Mr. Lalit and the Cinnamon Islands, with the vibrant aroma of cinnamon becoming lighter and lighter, I said a little prayer for Mr. Lalit.
Has anyone else’s life affected the way you think in your life?
This is an original post from our World Mom and Senior Editor in India, Purnima Ramakrishnan. She wrote this on her vacation to Sri Lanka in May 2015.
Her contributions to World Moms Blog can be found here. She also rambles at The Alchemist’s Blog.
Purnima Ramakrishnan is an UNCA award winning journalist and the recipient of the fellowship in Journalism by International Reporting Project, John Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. Her International reports from Brazil are found here .
She is also the recipient of the BlogHer '13 International Activist Scholarship Award .
She is a Senior Editor at World Moms Blog who writes passionately about social and other causes in India. Her parental journey is documented both here at World Moms Blog and also at her personal Blog, The Alchemist's Blog. She can be reached through this page .
She also contributes to Huffington Post .
Purnima was once a tech-savvy gal who lived in the corporate world of sleek vehicles and their electronics. She has a Master's degree in Electronics Engineering, but after working for 6 years as a Design Engineer, she decided to quit it all to become a Stay-At-Home-Mom to be with her son!
This smart mom was born and raised in India, and she has moved to live in coastal India with her husband, who is a physician, and her son who is in primary grade school.
She is a practitioner and trainer of Heartfulness Meditation.
This past Sunday, we celebrated International Day of The Girl on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter by sharing photos of our contributors’ daughters and what they dream of being when they grow up. (See their pictures at the end of this post!) So for our World Voice column today, we found it fitting to share a story of an amazing girl who defied the odds and later became one of our World Moms Blog contributors…read on!
There was once a little girl who grew up in a slum. This little girl would go to school in the morning without breakfast and would come back from school not expecting lunch. By the age of 11 she had no friends because they had all been married off. This little girl grew up in an area where education was not seen as important. At 14 she was mocked for being old maid not married.
This little girl wanted one thing in life, TO BE EDUCATED!
She had seen that those with education rode cars and lived in big houses. This little girl used to read so much and wanted the life she read of in books. She wanted to travel the world. She wanted to do many things. She did not allow her present circumstances determine her life. In other words she dared to dream.
Her parents couldn’t understand her big dreams. She was told she wouldn’t succeed much in life because she was not hardworking. She wasn’t much good at cooking, washing, sweeping and she always questioned everything. Who would marry you? No man would marry you if you cannot do domestic chores. She was always told, and she would always reply there are machines to do all that. This little girl read and read, and read.
Today she is living her dream because she dared to dream. You, too, can dare to dream. Do not allow someone’s else’s opinion of you become your reality. Allow yourself the opportunity to be the best that you can be. Give yourself a chance to excel, and the question I ask is WHY NOT YOU?
That little girl is all grown up and writing this article. I AM THE LITTLE GIRL THAT DARED TO DREAM.
If I could dream those dreams so many years ago why can’t you? I never thought of being a girl as a burden, and I still don’t. And no matter what anyone said, I knew I was born to shine in this world, and it was my duty to fulfil that destiny.
As a young girl you have all that it takes to be the greatest, and I wished someone had told me that years ago. I would have wished for so much, and dared for so much.
The greatest disservice you can do to yourself is selling yourself short of your potentials. Never, ever do that. Go for what you desire, and anyone that says you can’t, take great pleasure in proving them wrong. You are strong, bold, and the best. Accept yourself for who you are and never give anyone the power to hurt you.
No one can hurt you without your permission, and no one can make you feel less without your permission.
Be a voice for the voiceless girl. Be a name for the nameless girl, and be the face of the faceless girl. At the end of the day we have to stand for each other and by each other. It’s #GirlPower, and we dare to dream.
This is an original post written by Aisha Yesufu of Nigeria for World Moms Blog.
Photo credit to Jennifer Burden.
Here are some of the daughters of our #WorldMoms who shared their dreams for #DayofTheGirl
When you first separate, you are a big mess but you are full of hope that you’ll just manage everything well, mostly with the father of your children.
