by Martine de Luna (Philippines) | Aug 21, 2014 | 2014, Being Thankful, Domesticity, Life Lesson, Motherhood, Parenting, Philippines, Pregnancy, World Motherhood
Hello, world moms everywhere!
Wow, it’s been quite a blogcation, hasn’t it? In other parts of the world, it’s been a long and lazy summer, but for us here in the Philippines, it’s been a wet, sometimes troublesome monsoon season. Earlier in July, one of the worst typhoons hit the city of Manila (where I live), Typhoon Rammasun (called “Typhoon Glenda” by Filipinos). Several of my friends were affected; some even lost parts of their home, roofs, belongings. Others had no electricity for days, some as long as a week.
Yes, it was a difficult July for all of us here in my country. But thankfully, somehow we are alright. If you look around Manila now, there are still signs of damage. However, you will also see the smiles of our people, redolent with possibilities. Despite a harrowing monsoon season, our nation chugs on. Not without inconveniences, of course, but we manage.
I don’t know, but it’s a Filipino trait, I think. I guess our people are so used to hardships and difficulties, sometimes we just wait for them to blow over and just press forward. Of course, this is no excuse for our local government units, those responsible for the effective drainage of the annual heavy rainwaters, and the management of the city’s emergency facilities and evacuation centers. There is much to grumble about. Our government has been “awarded” as number one of the ten most corrupt countries in Asia — obviously something I’m not happy about. 30 million of our people live below the poverty line, meaning about 40 percent of our population has no adequate food rations, shelter, or access to public education.
I could go on about how much must has to change in my country. But I won’t. We have the news and social media for that.
I suppose it is because I am pregnant with my second child. As of this post for World Moms Blog, I am 16 and a half weeks along the way. I had a rocky first trimester, and am just settling into the apparent comforts of the second trimester. I am hoping and praying for a peaceful one! I’ll definitely need it so that I can work and continue to contribute to our family income.
Because I’m expecting, I can’t help but sometimes worry at how different my world is now, compared to when we had Baby #1 (who is now four years old, can you believe?). Things are definitely more challenging now: I’m older, as is my body (biological clock concerns); I seem to be busier now with work, compared to my first pregnancy (because I work from home now); financially, things are more of a concern now, with no healthcare provided for freelancers like me (Dear God, please provide). What concerns me the most is my eldest: Will I be able to show him how to be a good brother? How will we afford two kids? How, how, how?
So right now, I’m trying to see things with more positivity. But it doesn’t stop there. I want to see through to the heart of my apparent setbacks and see what I can make of them. You know what I mean? I want to — as Max Lucado says — probe and explore a problem, and eventually use it.
It’s the same with my outlook on my country. I could nitpick and worry over our national problems, or I could probe, explore and use those problems towards solutions. Every little bit of potential counts!
I want it to be the same with my pregnancy. I have resolved to look my problems in the face and challenge them head on. It’ll be harder because of my condition, but my gumption doesn’t want to fail me! I’m hoping that as I work, homeschool, rest, pray, read, keep my home, et al., that I will be able to create possibilities.
I have to. It has to start with me. Don’t you agree?
How about you, moms? How do you deal with apparent setbacks, in your own world? What do you do to press forward?
This is an original post by Martine de Luna for World Moms Blog. Photo credit goes to the author. Please visit Martine’s blog at www.makeitblissful.com. You can also work with her, if you want to create blogs or websites for your business, just connect with her at www.martinedeluna.com
Martine is a work-at-home Mom and passionate blogger. A former expat kid, she has a soft spot for international efforts, like WMB. While she's not blogging, she's busy making words awesome for her clients, who avail of her marketing writing, website writing, and blog consulting services. Martine now resides in busy, sunny Manila, the Philippines, with her husband, Ton, and toddler son, Vito Sebastian. You can find her blogging at DaintyMom.com.
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by Karyn Wills | Aug 18, 2014 | Childhood, Life, Motherhood, New Zealand, Parenting, Time
Almost three years ago, we had the option of buying a big house in town or an apartment sized house on a small block of land. With three boys who had outgrown the space we had in town, we moved to the countryside. It’s been a great move and I feel very at home here. There is space for energy to be burned and huts to be built. There is mud. A lot of mud. There are fruit trees and a small forest. No, there isn’t enough room inside, especially when it’s midwinter and there are more than our family in the house. (Groups of 12 yo boys take up a lot of space!) I have culled and culled and culled and we still have too much stuff for the cupboards. But all in all, I’m pleased I’m here.
Before the move, one of the things I was dreading was the extra driving I was going to have to do. My boys go to school in a small city 25 minutes from home and I work in the twin small city, 25 minutes drive in the opposite direction.. The boys have friends spread out all around the area, it’s not unusual for me to drive 700km (about 430 miles) in a week and that can equate to a couple of hours each day.
While I don’t mind the actual driving, anticipating what wasn’t going to get done during that time bothered me. And it’s proven to be a justified expectation. There are weeks when the basics are all that get completed. I relish my days when I don’t have to go anywhere and at least some holiday time at home is essential for my mental health. But there has been a major up side to all that time in the car: Time with the boys, either in groups or individually, and time alone.
I get to have one on one time with each of the three boys most weeks; I get to listen to them and their friends yakking about what’s important to them (if you don‘t say anything, you learn all sorts of things); I get to talk to them about life and they get to tell me about life. We laugh, we rant, we sing, we are silly together, we plan what needs to be done when we arrive home. Sometimes we listen to talking books and at other, rare times, there is companionable silence.
I also really value the time I get in the car alone, with my thoughts or listening to cds. I have mentally worked through discussions, organised my day and contemplated the scenery. I have tuned out, sometimes, to the point where the car seems to drive itself.
And, from time with the boys to time by myself, I can see that it’s all been valuable. The silver lining(s), as they say.
Have you ever dreaded something and then discovered that there was magic in the reality of living that experience? How much time do you spend travelling each week?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by our writer and mother of three boys in New Zealand, Karyn Van Der Zwet.
Photo credit to the author.
Karyn is a teacher, writer and solo mother to three sons. She lives in the sunny wine region of Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand in the city of Napier.
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by Mirjam | Aug 11, 2014 | Babies, Kids, Milestones, Motherhood, Netherlands, Older Children, Parenting, Teenagers, World Moms Blog
I remember the day I gave birth to my firstborn very well.
After a long exhausting delivery, a baby boy was placed in my arms.
I remember feeling overwhelmed, I remember shaking from exhaustion.
But my fatigue and pain faded to the background, the moment I held him for the first time.
It wasn’t just a child that was born that day, a mother was also born and a love beyond comprehension.
Something in my mind and spirit opened up and I never saw the world the same way again.
From that moment on, I wept, whenever I saw the news.
With every casualty I realized that that was someone’s baby, someone’s child.
The irony is, that at the same time that an alertness and a desire to keep my baby close was awakened in me, a will and force to stand on his own was stirred up in him.
Yes, I had brought this little boy into the world, but he wasn’t mine. Yes, mine to hold, but for a short amount of time. He was born to walk his own course and to be his own person.
To emphasize this the cord binding us together was cut.
And thus started our walk together. His, a walk of learning to take his own steps and mine, a walk of loosening grip by grip.
“Hold my hand as you cross the street.”
“You get back here, young man!”
“Yes, you can walk ahead in front of me as long as I can see you”
“You may ride your bike, but you have to stay on the curb.”
I held him, carried him, I cheered him on.
I held his hand and accompanied him, I sometimes gave him a little push when he lacked confidence.
And on many, many occasions I held him back.
“No, don’t touch that, that’s hot.”
“No, you can’t watch that, you’re too young.”
“No, you can’t go there, that’s too far.”
And now I have to let him go beyond my grasp, beyond my sight.
A part of my job is done and my role is changing.
I can no longer hold him back.
I have to let him go yet a little further.
The other day I accidentally grabbed his hand as we were crossing the street. He quickly pulled his hand away and gave me a look fit for crazy people.
My mistake, I thought, for one moment I mistook you for the little boy you once were.
My little boy is going to high school.
Can someone please hold me now?
Do you have moments that you have trouble letting your child or children go?
This is an original post for World Moms Blog by Mirjam of the Netherlands. Mirjam also blogs at Apples and Roses.
Photo credit: kwanie. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.
Mirjam was born in warm, sunny Surinam, but raised in the cold, rainy Netherlands.
She´s the mom of three rambunctious beauties and has been married for over two decades to the love of her life.
Every day she´s challenged by combining the best and worst of two cultures at home.
She used to be an elementary school teacher but is now a stay at home Mom. In her free time she loves to pick up her photo camera.
Mirjam has had a life long battle with depression and is not afraid to talk about it.
She enjoys being a blogger, an amateur photographer, and loves being creative in many ways.
But most of all she loves live and laughter, even though sometimes she is the joke herself.
You can find Mirjam (sporadically) at her blog Apples and Roses where she blogs about her battle with depression and finding beauty in the simplest of things. You can also find Mirjam on Twitter and Instagram.
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by ThinkSayBe | Aug 8, 2014 | 2014, Awareness, Communication, Environment, Family, Home, Kids, Motherhood, Parenting, ThinkSayBe, Traditions, USA, World Motherhood
Do you remember those movies in which a new family moves into a neighborhood, and one of the neighbors brings them a pie as a welcoming gesture? Maybe you have been the recipient of such a gift, or maybe the giver. Maybe, you have done neither and additionally do not know your neighbors. I must say I have been guilty of not being the pie-bringer, although it always looked so nice and like the joyful & peaceful thing to do.
Over the last two years I have been better at this, but truth be told, my mother would be doing a much better job and by now she would know everyone in half mile radius! There is one neighbor with whom I have a food exchange every so often. He is the one who calls on us and we can call on him when in need of some flour, or bug spray (Florida bugs want their swamp back), or someone to keep an eye out for our teen if we aren’t home when she gets back from school.
A man lives down the road and if it weren’t for his injured dog, we may have never struck a conversation. There is a guy everyone goes to when they need their car washed, gutters cleaned, or lawn mowed for a little money. Down the road there is a sweet older lady with a name that makes you want to know if she is a spy or what intriguing life stories she may have. I haven’t asked her yet, but I will. For now she is my ‘hugging’ neighbor while with all the others I exchange nods, waves, and the occasional, “How do you do?”, and “Just trying to stay out of this heat!” The corner/convenience store is owned by some cool people, whom I would feel safe sending my teen girl to buy groceries from.
That’s really it. My motivation for getting to know my neighbors has realistically been for the safety of my children and my family as a whole.
I want to know we can walk around safely, and that no one would bother my daughter. In the event that a stranger walked on this road, I want to know that my neighbors will intervene on my behalf to ensure my daughter’s safety. I want to know that if she goes to the convenience store on her own, that they will give her exact change if she miscounts.
Ideally I would know all my neighbors. I would have been in their homes at least once if it seemed safe, and if not that, I would at least know their names. So what’s stopped me? Maybe wanting to stay out of people’s business. As a photographer I have become sensitive to people’s want for privacy, and maybe I am spreading that sensitivity to situations that don’t really need it. After all, some people are just camera-shy, but would love to share a recipe, or a story, or know they can come to you if they need their trash bin put on the curb if they won’t be here on trash day.
Maybe getting to know our neighbors is a part of making make the world seem less crazy, technological advances less calculated, and absence of family less cold as the family that neighbors can be brings warmth in our lives. Of course this may be the case if our neighbors aren’t what makes the world a crazy, sad, and maddening place.
How about you and your family – do you know your neighbors well? Do you think there was more emphasis on getting to know your neighbors in years past? Does the type of neighborhood you live in play a factor in whether you get to know the people next door, or make you keep your distance?
Thank you for reading. Please share your thoughts & experiences 🙂
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Sophia. You can find her blogging at Think Say Be and on twitter @ThinkSayBeSNJ.
Photo credit to the author.
I am a mom amongst some other titles life has fortunately given me. I love photography & the reward of someone being really happy about a photo I took of her/him. I work, I study, I try to pay attention to life. I like writing. I don't understand many things...especially why humans treat each other & other living & inanimate things so vilely sometimes. I like to be an idealist, but when most fails, I do my best to not be a pessimist: Life itself is entirely too beautiful, amazing & inspiring to forget that it is!
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by Ana Gaby | Aug 7, 2014 | 2014, Indonesia, Parenting, Younger Children
World Mom Ana’s son
I thought I had been lucky enough to avoid them, I thought we would breeze through, I thought it didn’t run in the family, after all, my older son never had a tantrum. Oh boy, was I wrong. In the past few weeks my 2 year old, Joshua, has revealed a side of him I had never experienced before. The terrible two year old has unleashed and this inexperienced mama is in trouble! Don’t get me wrong, Joshua is still the sweet little guy he’s always been but when something doesn’t go his way, he is prompt to express his discontent. The repertoire includes high-pitched screams, kicks, a few encounters with the floor and a bite here and there.
I keep saying to myself that this attitude is product of our current transition. We recently left Indonesia and are slowly making our way back to Virginia where we will settle down for a while. Everything that Josh knows, his home, his friends, his school, his nanny are no longer here and I sometimes feel guilty for making them go thru this. We are having a wonderful time visiting friends and family however as familiar as grandparents and close friends are, I think Josh is still getting acquainted to his surroundings and feeling a bit disoriented.
I get it, if I was a two-year old with a repertoire of but a few words to express myself I would probably rely on physical manifestations to show my feelings. The part I don’t quite get is how to deal with it sometimes. Since I didn’t get any expertise with my now four year old, Evan, I am a bit clueless as to what to do every time he freaks out sometimes.
I’ve done my research and I’ve found all kids of tips and strategies, ignore the tantrum, distract him, engage him in conversation, hug him, give him a time out, etc. But what I’ve found works best is just to look at him in the eyes with the biggest smile and ask him to use his words and express what is bothering him. The result is a mix of English, Spanish and Bahasa Indonesia that somehow ends up overpowering the cries and anguish this little two year old feels and I get my Joshie back.
To be completely honest, I don’t particularly like this stage; it is frustrating and exhausting and sometimes outright exasperating. But then when I see my energetic two year old run around and make the best of his day, I realize how blessed I am to have such an amazing little man in my life and I choose to make the best of my day and savor every single second of this season in Joshua’s life.
For this family, the world terrible will be banned and even those “terrible” moments will be terrific learning experiences for both him and me. Here’s to savoring the last few moths of Joshua’s terrific twos and to being grateful every day for God’s endless blessings.
Did your kids go thru the “terrible twos”? How did they manifest it? Did all your kids go through them?
This is an original post written for World Moms Blog by Ana Gaby. You can find Ana Gaby blogging at Stumble Abroad.
Photo credit to the author.
Ana Gaby is a Mexican by birth and soul, American by heart and passport and Indonesian by Residence Permit. After living, studying and working overseas, she met the love of her life and endeavored in the adventure of a lifetime: country-hopping every three years for her husband’s job. When she's not chasing her two little boys around she volunteers at several associations doing charity work in Indonesia and documents their adventures and misadventures in South East Asia at Stumble Abroad.
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by Katinka | Jul 28, 2014 | 2014, Adoption, Adoptive Parents, Being Thankful, Belgium, Birth Parents, Childhood, Contest, Cooking, Cultural Differences, Discipline, Ethiopia, Family, Food, Health, Kids, Life Balance, Motherhood, Multicultural, Nutrition, Parenting, Siblings, World Motherhood, Younger Children
I’ve yet to meet a mom who is not monitoring her kid’s eating habits. Some might even be obsessed over it, others just make sure their kids eat enough or don’t overeat. Food can be filled with cultural, health or moral values and seems an important subject in most families I know.
Every single one of the moms I know, seems to have her personal truth about food, or is at least searching for it. I know quite a few moms who vouch for strict vegetarianism, sugar free, all organic, low-carb, macrobiotic, low-fat or a mix of those. Others cook without lactose, gluten, sugar, eggs, nuts, soy and other allergy or intolerance boosters, by necessity or by conviction. But there’s also quite a number who just like to stick to their grandmothers’ favourite mashed potatoes with pork chops and piccalilli, because that’s what they were raised with.
Myself, I mix quite a bit of the above. My life is all about compromises. As a student, I used to be vegetarian, but now we eat vegetarian for only about 3 days a week. I also restrict the amount of lactose, because of my daughter’s (mild) intolerance. I make sure they eat at least one piece of fruit per day, but most days it’s two or three. And because we are Belgian, we have our two-weekly take out of ‘French’ fries, which originally came from Belgium. Or maybe even from Flanders.
I would not call myself obsessed, but I do keep a detailed mental track of what my kids eat in a day, and try to compensate by the 80/20 rule I adopted from a fellow World Mom: if they eat healthy for 80% of the time, that will make up for the 20% they eat junk.
When a mom has found her personal truth about food, obviously she wishes for her kids to eat by it; which they aren’t likely to do without a struggle. Not after they’ve tasted the Belgian fries, they won’t.
When my oldest was younger, I used to think I had it all together though. He ate whatever vegetable I gave him and his favourite dish was Brussels’ sprouts. I even recall quite some occasions on which I, the former vegetarian, bribed him into eating his meat by promising him an extra stem of broccoli. After a while, even the meat didn’t pose a problem anymore. He would eat whatever I served him.
Those good old days are over now.
It all started when our daughter arrived, age 2.5. She came from Ethiopia and was not used to our diet, not mentally, but also not physically. The first time I served her something green, she just threw it on the floor. Not out of a whim, but because she was clearly convinced it was not edible. She even tried to take it out of my mouth. Having been fed mashed dishes all her life, she was also not used to chewing. She did like bread and she did her best chewing it, but we had to take her to a physiotherapist to sooth her jaw pains. So we customized our cooking to her and introduced new stuff every once in a while. The one dish that never posed a problem was, indeed, our Belgian fries.
Meanwhile, our son, then 5, seemed to finally grasp that there was such a thing as rejecting food. I don’t know whether it was his sister’s example, the TV shows he started watching, his classmates or just normal evolution, but he started getting more selective each month. He also ate with his hands more often, just like his sister was used to. I went from having one kid with excellent eating habits to two picky, messy eaters.
After two years of convincing myself it was just a phase, this year I started implementing some strategies to get them to eat more balanced. Ultimately, what they were eating wasn’t all that bad but I was getting tired of the drama and the struggle to get them to eat what I believed was good for them. And most of all, I wanted them to develop the discipline to choose healthy by themselves, and not just because I ordered or rewarded them.
First, I tried the Yucky List. A colleague of mine had it at home, and it worked perfectly for her family. The idea is that it is only natural to have different tastes and that you don’t need to like everything. The concept is that each family member can have three dishes they really don’t like, on that list. When it is served, they are allowed to refuse it and have bread instead. Or hope for a mom who cooks two different dishes in advance. Of course over time, you can change your preferences but when a fourth dish you don’t like is served to you, you have to eat it, before you can put it on the list (replacing another).
It seemed promising but after a few weeks, the kids started to change their list about every other day. Way too many family dinners were filled with ‘I will put this on my yucky list for sure!’ and a lot of moaning and struggling, which didn’t really lighten the mood as I had hoped it would. We might pick it up again when they are older but for now, it doesn’t work for us.
After that, I changed my strategy to handing out a Yucky Coupon, Bah Bon in Dutch. I borrowed the idea from a friend who used to do cooking for youth camps. At these camps, each of the kids was given one Bah Bon for the duration of the camp. They could hand it in if they didn’t want to eat one of the meals that was cooked for them. Of course, they only could do that once. And the ones who still had the Bah Bon at the last day of camp, could hand it in, in exchange for ice cream.
So that’s how we do it now and it works like a charm! The kids both have their weekly Bah Bon, which is very conveniently posted on the magnetic wall next to the dinner table. Whenever they complain about dinner (or lunch or breakfast), we just point to their Bah Bon and remind them they can hand it in if they wish. No strict words, just giving them a choice and a visual reminder. Our son hasn’t missed his Sunday ice cream once. Our daughter has, once, and she’s not likely to miss another.
Of course, this will only work if ice cream is really a treat for your kids. Mine don’t really get candy or other sweets that often, so for them this works perfectly.
And of course, it’s still kind of a bribe. But I like it much more than the daily ‘If you don’t eat it, you can’t have desert’ bribe. For one, because we don’t have desert every day. Second, because they have to manage the discipline to work all week for their ice cream, rather than getting an instant reward. Third, because I don’t exactly sell the ice cream as a bribe or reward but rather as an interpretation of the 80/20 rule: if they eat healthy and balanced all week, it is all right to have something unhealthy every once in a while.
Most importantly, I like this system because the kids themselves really like this system. They like being in control of what they (don’t) eat without any pressure from us, and most of all they absolutely love our weekly ceremony when they officially hand in the Bah Bon they saved in exchange for their well deserved treat.
Do you have a personal or cultural take on the food you serve your kids? And do you need similar strategies to convince them about it?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by K10K from The Penguin and The Panther.
The picture in this post is credited to the author.
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...
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