by Nancy Sumari | Dec 22, 2016 | 2016, Africa, Africa and Middle East, Culture, Domesticity, Family, Husband, Inspirational, Marriage, Motherhood, Nancy Sumari, Parenting, Relationships, Responsibility, Tanzania, World Motherhood
The holiday season is upon us, and that therefore means that the winds of change for the new year blow ever stronger as we draw ever closer to year end. In reflection of 2016, I cannot help but celebrate it as the year that truly was for the Woman. Yes! The Year of the Woman. I celebrate the efforts of women (and some men) across the globe to advance us towards gender equality and squashing gender roles bit by bit.
Ladies, do not get me wrong, I know we have not yet reached our final destination. We have not yet achieved all of our goals, and the road is ever-covered with blind spots. For a moment, let us simply celebrate the successes – and indeed the failures – that have shaped the plight of gender equality for 2016. So yes, let us celebrate YOU, for changing the world by loving your family and raising your kids right. It truly is the first step towards the world becoming a better place.
So, for 2017, I pledge to affirm my stance on gender equality right at home. I’ll do this by not waking up early every day all on my own, but rather letting my partner pull those early morning shifts, drive for carpool and make goodies for bake sales, in equal measure. Did you ever wonder why bake sales are primarily a mom thing? Well not anymore! At least not around here. Oh yes, ladies! I mean progressive! Equal shares of making dinner, juggling kids, and all that jazz!
This radical change goes against the traditions of my mother’s generation. A man’s position in the family is very established where I come from. But for my family, this is a new world order! I am grateful, because my husband agrees with my radical changes.
And so, committed to our resolve and in the spirit of setting an example to our brood, here is to wishing you a gender equal Christmas, and a prosperous and progressive 2017!
Wish us luck!
This is an original post written for World Moms Blog by Nancy Sumari in Tanzania.
Image credit: Tara Wambugu
by Piya Mukherjee | Dec 6, 2016 | India, Kids, Motherhood, Parenting, Uncategorized
The happy story of motherhood invariably begins with one little discordant note. Amidst the congratulations from friends and family and the heady feeling of having reached a life-transforming milestone, one thing that invariably goes unmentioned to new mothers is that sleep will become the most precious thing in their lives, second only to the newborn squalling in their arms! Recently, I stumbled upon some old pages from my diary, written when my progeny was all of 40 days old.
From the Diary:
Motherhood. One little word with so very many nuances of color and meaning! I knew about the nappies, the feeding, the burping, the rocking-to-sleep thing. I didn’t know about the sheer sense of awe and wonder I would feel each time I looked at or held my little one. But all that awe threatens to disappear in a puff of smoke – this baby just won’t sleep! He seems to run on adrenaline. Even now as I write, my left hand is patting him, hoping he will shut his eyes (and I will shut mine too) but he seems fascinated by the wall-clock! J But the real battle of wills happens after dinner. The situation runs like this:
Mother (that’s me): Abhi, finish your feed and then sleep; don’t doze off now.
Abhi (if he could talk, this is what he might say): Huh? I am not too hungry…zzzz…or am I?…zzz…
Mother tickles Abhi’s ears in a vain attempt to get him to finish his feed. The doctor had advised her this was the best way to awaken a sleeping baby. Abhi obviously didn’t get the memo! She wonders how he manages to become drowsy at feeding times and valiantly resists sleep at other times.
Mother: One moment, let me hold you properly…
Abhi: Waaaanh! (mother quickly soothes him; he seems to finish his feed, all seems well)
Mother: Good boy! Now I will help you sit up and burp.
Abhi: Not the least bit interested! (Helpfully brings up some curdled milk instead. Mother quickly wipes him clean and starts worrying – is this normal? Does he need more feeding?)
Mother: Are you hungry?
Abhi responds by hiccuping, putting a stop to all further feeding plans.
Mother: O.K. Sleep-time. “Aye ghoom aye. Shona ghoomaye” (Bengali for “Come, sleep, come. The little darling sleeps.”)
Abhi opens his eyes wider and starts counting the squares of the mosquito-mesh at the window.
Mother: “Aamaar shone cheley. Please ghoomiye poro”. (“My darling boy, please go to sleep)
Abhi: Mom, there are 672 panels in this part of the mesh!
Mother: Aargh! What are you staring at? Shut your eyes, please!
Abhi: What a lovely little lampshade we have! Say, the curtains look a different colour at night. Interesting…
Mother is ready to collapse. She looks at the clock and decides there is no point in collapsing – the next feeding time is just minutes away! As a last-ditch effort, she decides to walk around with him, tired body notwithstanding. And he snoozes off. Victory! Mother wonders how a 40-day old infant can differentiate between the bed, the crib and her arms…Mother declares herself to be a student of “Bachelor of Child Care Management” taught by the University of Life and Experience!
Reflecting on the journey:
If anyone had told me that I would survive for months on end with barely four 
hours of sleep a day, I would have thought that to be impossible. And yet, motherhood seems to confer Superwoman-like powers on the humblest of us. Exhaustion battled with a supreme sense of hard-won patience. The latter won. Every time. The sheer force of unconditional love and an increasing sense of clarity about what the little one needed, were enough to deal with perpetual sleeplessness. The almost zombie-like days and nights segued into each other. And soon the infant grew to be a mischievous toddler, then a curious, inquisitive child, and is now, a strapping teen. Was I a patient person to begin with? Far from it! The first weeks and months of motherhood were therefore a “baptism by fire” for me. Over the years, there have been many, MANY more occasions for me to grow my “patience-muscle”. But this one was by far the sweetest and most definitive way to learn patience; truly claimed by the sheer persistence of a mother’s love.
Abhi and his mom – all round-eyed innocence!
by Michelle Pannell | Dec 5, 2016 | Kids, Motherhood, Parenting
It’s a very different world that my children are growing up in now than when I was a child in the 1970’s and 80’s. As a young teenager I would be sat in my room with walls covered in posters ripped out of Smash Hits magazine and I’d be listening to the radio or maybe reading a book. If my friends wanted to chat to me they’d call the family landline and I’d take the phone on a long wire out into the hallway and sit on the stairs and gossip away for as long as my parents would let me.
Nowadays, my 13 year old son JJ could be watching a movie in his room whilst playing a game on his iPad, and chatting to his mates via Whatsapp. He has no need for posters from magazines as any image he wants to see can be called up on his computer at the touch of a button and he rarely speaks on the phone. Everything is instant and access to information is super easy.
So easy that when JJ meets a new mate and they decide to become friends on Facebook his mate can now see much of my profile on FB too and especially all the posts JJ is tagged in. If his friend wants to dig back a few years he might find a picture of JJ in the garden in the paddling pool or uncover one of him with crazy hair from a fancy dress when he was 6, and what I’ve really been pondering just recently is if JJ wants his new mates to see all this and if it is appropriate that I have shared his life online?
This isn’t an easy topic to explore, it is very emotive and I know that everything I have shared has been done because I love JJ, and because I thought whatever he was doing was cute or funny. Surely I’m just being honest and telling my story, the story of parenthood and the joy it brings me?
But now that JJ is becoming a young adult does he want his digital footprint already established from before he could even type? Was this really my story, or was it his and not mine to tell at all?
Children of JJ’s age are the first to be growing up in this new era, this time of instancey and easy sharing. My first serious boyfriend when I was 16 was only able to see my childhood images as my Mum got out the photo album and I sat next to him and cringed as he looked through, but this still gave me an element of control. JJ’s first girlfriend can befriend him on Facebook, or read my blog, or follow my Instagram feed, check out Google + or any of the other social media sites I use as a successful blogger.
Because that’s another thing, as a family lifestyle blogger I’ve shared a lot about each of my children and never with the intention of embarrassing them. Always with the aim of creating a family treasury of beautiful moments and adventures together and sometimes with the hope that I can help another struggling parent but will JJ want his future girlfriend to know that we started to have him assessed for Asperger Syndrome when he was about 6 years old? Maybe not, but as I’ve been blogging since he was four and my girls were less than one there is a lot of information about them out there for all to see.
Thank the Lord I have always been honest with my children and they know about my blog and they realise that when I say smile and hold up my iPhone the chances are that photo will make it onto my blog or social media in some form. This means they have the opportunity to say no and sometimes they do, they say ‘not today Mum’ or they feel off colour and don’t want to be on show, and that is fair enough and I respect their decision. But they couldn’t make that decision when they were a toddler or pre-schooler as they weren’t competent to do so and that was when I made the decision to share for them and now I’m left wondering if I did the right thing?
So now I’m at a cross roads and I am being much more discerning about what I share about my kids. Their health issues don’t get shared, their fears don’t get shared and their struggles in life don’t get shared and whist on the one hand I think this is such a shame as parents need resources to go to where they can feel reassured that it is normal that a teenager still has bed wetting issues (mine doesn’t I hasten to add) or that a nine year old girl has started to become a woman (no, not mine either). On the other hand it is more important to respect their privacy and allow them the dignity to live their lives in peace and to share who they wish to tell their personal secrets and struggles to.
From now onwards the story I tell via my blog and social media really will be my story and just mine. Of course they will still play a part as I’m a parent and that is probably the biggest part of my life right now but I can’t share as openly as I once did as I now know this could negatively impact their future relationships, decisions and confidence, and that is the last thing I’d want to do.
What about you? How much are you sharing of your child’s life online and have you had the conversation with them to see if they are happy about it?
This is an original post for World Moms Network written by Michelle Pannell, who can normally be found writing at Mummy from the Heart and Progress Not Perfection.
Michelle’s tales of everyday life and imperfect parenting of a 13-year-old boy and 9-year-old twin girls and her positive Christian outlook on life have made her name known in the UK parenting blogosphere. Her blog, Mummy from the Heart, has struck a chord with and is read by thousands of women across the world.
Michelle loves life and enjoys keeping it simple. Time with her family, friends and God are what make her happiest, along with a spot of blogging and tweeting, too! Michelle readily left behind the corporate arena but draws on her 25 years of career experience from the fields of hotel, recruitment and HR management in her current voluntary roles at a school, Christian conference centre, night shelter and food bank.
As a ONE ambassador, in 2012 Michelle was selected to travel on a delegation to Ethiopia with the organisation to report on global poverty and health. Then in 2014 she was invited to Washington, DC, where she attended the AYA Summit for girls and women worldwide. When asked about her ambassadorship with the ONE Campaign, she stated, "I feel humbled to be able to act as an advocate and campaigner for those living in poverty."
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by Melanie Oda (Japan) | Nov 30, 2016 | bilingualism, International, Motherhood, Parenting, Uncategorized
Like an increasing number of families in Japan, my children are being raised in a bilingual environment. We started this saga back in the days before the Internet took over the world, and I had to actually buy and read books to fill my mind with anxiety-inducing conflicting opinions. Now I can meet my anxiety quotient with a few clicks each day, much more efficient.
I found then, and now, that there is a lot of information geared towards young children and parents who still have their hair, having not yet ripped it all out in frustration when confronted by relatives or educators who don’t understand bilingualism, or worse, are prejudiced against it.
My kids are now 9 and 11, in 3rd and 6th grade at local Japanese schools. All of their education has been in Japanese. Our home life is basically in English, though the kids speak Japanese with Dad. He just isn’t around as much due to long working hours.
Some friends and I started an English school that focuses on literacy for already bilingual kids. We meet three times a month on Saturday. This is their only “formal” English training. Everything else has been left to me.
Which is every bit as hard as it sounds.
I thought I would share with you today my top tips for raising bilingual kids without losing your sanity. Please bear in mind that mine are 9 and 11 years old. I would love to hear top tips for teenagers, so please share your ideas on the comments!
1) Input input input. I have an unwritten rule that all media in the house should be in the minority language. (In our case, that’s English.) But we all know how much kids love rules…so I make sure to have a plethora of attractive English options, while keeping the Japanese options limited to network TV.
2) Encourage siblings to speak the minority language to each other. I know that this one is hard. Siblings have their own relationship with each other separate from their parents, and we don’t want to be up in there and intruding. Some things like school or homework, is just be easier to discussed in the majority language and I try not to get too worried about that.
Having games, puzzles, something they can do together that uses the minority language is one way to encourage them to use it with each other without having to get in their face about it. “Operation,” for example, is funnier in English. Mad Libs or other word puzzles are great! They keep talking about it, in the same language, for quite a while afterwards.
3)Read- We all know that reading to your children is important, but perhaps even more so for bilingual children. Even when you think your kids should be reading to themselves, keep reading to them. This will help emphasize good grammar structure (sometimes strange patterns can get kind of fossilized within a family.) Also through reading you can expose your children to situations they would ‘t normally have a chance to encounter, and all the vocabulary that comes with that.
4) Identify vocabulary holes. Bilingual people often have greater vocabulary in one language about a particular topic than the other. My children probably don’t know words like “ladle” or “whisk” in Japanese because they aren’t exposed to those terms outside of the home. Conversely, there are lots of words related to school life that they will not learn in English unless I make an effort to imagine where those holes will be and prevent them. I find often that when talking to each other, they fill that space with the Japanese word This phenomenon is called code-switching.
5)Don’t panic over code switching. According to most experts, code switching isn’t really a problem; But as a parent, it can be disconcerting! Personally, I repeat what the child has said with the correct English term, if there is one. I don’t usually make them repeat it in English or point out they have said something incorrect.
6) Use background music. I find that if the background music is in English, pretty soon everyone is speaking English!
7) Routine is your friend. Getting the children to do their English reading and writing was a huge battle in the beginning, but we built it into their morning routine. There are some days when we don’t get to it, and even more when not as much gets done as I would like, but because we have a routine in place and an expectation that it will get done, it’s easier to get back on track and stay there.
8) Keep a sense of humor. Raising kids is hard work, full stop. Adding another language to the mix adds another layer of difficulty. But it also adds another layer of cute mistakes and funny memories. Just now I asked my son to come back by a decent hour, and he exploded that he would come home an hour early. Um, that was “decent hour,” not “descent hour,” which is not even a thing.
Do you have any tips to add? Any insight into bilingual teens? Please share your thoughts in the comments!
If you ask Melanie Oda where she is from, she will answer "Georgia." (Unless you ask her in Japanese. Then she will say "America.") It sounds nice, and it's a one-word answer, which is what most people expect. The truth is more complex. She moved around several small towns in the south growing up. Such is life when your father is a Southern Baptist preacher of the hellfire and brimstone variety.
She came to Japan in 2000 as an assistant language teacher, and has never managed to leave. She currently resides in Yokohama, on the outskirts of Tokyo (but please don't tell anyone she described it that way! Citizens of Yokohama have a lot of pride). No one is more surprised to find her here, married to a Japanese man and with two bilingual children (aged four and seven), than herself. And possibly her mother.
You can read more about her misadventures in Asia on her blog, HamakkoMommy.
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by Martine de Luna (Philippines) | Nov 9, 2016 | 2016, Life Lesson, Motherhood, Parenting, World Moms Blog, World Motherhood
This year in the Philippines, we have been amidst an election year for a new president. Honestly, I wasn’t too pleased with the options nor the results. In the last six months since the elections, things are looking quite bleak for our nation, with a clear divide between the people. I’ve never seen a more shameful public parade of opinions than in the last year since the campaign period began.
Compounded with the U.S. electoral campaign, my Facebook feed has become almost intolerable. Where there used to be updates about motherhood and the joys of parenting, I now find daily helpings of judgment and strife.
I can’t say more than this. You all know what I mean. We all know what’s being said and hurled around social media.
Everyday, I just get to thinking; What is this world coming to? Were we always this spiteful, this hurtful? Did social media make us more bold to spew out hate from behind our screens, or did it make us more cowardly than ever?
The biggest question of all; How does a mother in this day and age raise a child amidst such horrors? In my own country, things appear status quo on the surface, but we live in constant fear of extrajudicial killings, unsolved murders and deep corruption in the government.
How do you protect your child from what is evil, immoral and debase?
How do you explain to them that the world is still good, despite daily heralds that it is terribly, horribly twisted?
As a mother, all I can do is set an example for my children. Because what I do — whether or not my children see me in action — will reflect in how they turn out. I cannot play with their lives if I am not vigilant with my own character, my values and beliefs. Because like it or not, their perception of me will shape their future.
For my son, I hope that my husband and I can show him how to be a man for others. He is a kind soul, an old soul I feel sometimes. He watches out for his little sister, and has started ninja/martial arts lessons (after his obsession with TMNT), so that he “can protect her.” I want him to grow up to see the good in people, to be a giver at heart. Maybe he can use his talent for drawing in some good way for others; I don’t know. His future is full of possibilities.
For my baby girl, I hope that this world will still be full of wonder for her, as she is still such a baby. (She’s one and a half.) I have yet to find out what she will be like, but I hope to bring her up with a mindset of positivity and bravery, of gratitude and hope. She has such a full life ahead of her, that is why I am adamant to make her world a happy place.
Sigh. I remain hopeful. Maybe I just need to tune out of the news for a while and be with my kids more, so that I can constantly be reminded that we are all inherently good inside. Who’s with me?
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 Mannahattamamma (UAE) | Oct 20, 2016 | 2016, Adolescence, Africa and Middle East, Culture, Expat Life, Family Travel, Humor, Middle East, Older Children, Parenting, Travel, UAE, Vacationing, World Motherhood
My husband is a New Yorker whose theatergoing parents always planned their theater outings well in advance. He’s adopted this same long-range planning attitude, and that’s how we ended up with tickets to “the Harry Potter play” this past September. In a fit of jet-lag , he’d bought tickets the previous November during an airport layover en route to Abu Dhabi.
Using our airline miles, we flew to London in September, during the Eid holidays, to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. We took our children, of course, which meant that it wasn’t a vacation but a family trip. Although you might want to think that these are synonyms, they’re really not. If you’re on vacation, you’re never forced to whisper-yell at someone to put down his phone and pay attention when he’s going through security, or explain (for the umpteenth time) that we didn’t fly all the way to London just to hang out in the Jack Wills store.
Those of you with small children or infants might think that traveling with older children looks easy. Their gear tends to be smaller and there’s that whole “go to the bathroom on their own” thing, which is pretty great. But with a small child, there is always the chance that she will fall asleep in her stroller, a cracker crushed in her pudgy fist, and then you can proceed to stroll in the park, or walk through a gallery without much whinging. Older children whinge; they have opinions and needs.
Other people’s children whinge, that is. My family travels in an entirely whinge-free zone. No whinging here, nope, nothing to see here, move along.
Wrapped in our whinge-free bubble, we went off to the play, about which I can say nothing. I’m pretty much sworn to secrecy about the play’s magic, other than to say that all the effects were accomplished through stagecraft. There weren’t any digital effects or computer-aided sorcery, which in this day and age is rather a marvel, all by itself. The plot was… well, you may have already read the book (which is the script of the play), so you know the plot. It’s the standard Rowling combination of magic and family, with the emphasis on family.
There is one key plot point that sets the play apart: Harry Potter is forty. He works for the Ministry of Magic and has discovered, as so many of us do, that life as an adult isn’t as much fun as we thought it would be. Harry longs to continue dashing around in an invisibility cloak, but there are reports to write and files to go through—all the joys of adult work. He’s chafing a bit, is our Harry. Ron even jokes that Harry’s scar aches not because of any Voldemort-related reason but because of middle age. Everything aches a bit these days, he points out.
When the play starts, Harry and his family are standing on platform 9 ¾, and Harry’s elder sons, James and Albus, are bickering so violently that Harry whisper-yells at them to “behave!” Can I tell you how heartening it is to see that even Harry Potter’s children misbehave in public?
At its heart, the Harry Potter series is about a child wondering about his parents. The play flips the tables: now it’s a parent wondering about his children. Harry’s son Albus feels the weight of being the son of “the boy who lived” and, as is the case with most teenagers, Albus doesn’t always handle his feelings gracefully. Of course, as is the case with most parents, Harry doesn’t always handle his feelings gracefully, either.
In an effort to keep Albus safe, Harry imposes more and more rules, which have precisely the opposite effect. As I watched Harry struggle with Albus, I winced in recognition. Lately it seems that in my efforts to connect with my almost sixteen-year old son, I inevitably say the wrong thing at the wrong time and before you know it, one of us is yelling. (And of course, the fault is always mine. My son makes that abundantly clear.)
Harry’s questions remind me of my own: how do I keep my teenager safe and, at the same time, let him grow and develop in his own way, even if that means letting him take risks and (occasionally) be really quite an idiot? When my children were toddlers, I wished someone would invent a kind of bubble wrap suit that I could wrap around them to prevent bruising, and now that my children are older, I wish there were emotional bubble wrap that would prevent the inevitable heartache that comes with growing up. If only Jack Wills made such a thing.
As Harry and Albus slowly find their way back to one another after the emotional battles that wound them both, they learn to accept one another’s imperfections. The lesson of the Harry Potter play highlights the fact that we don’t need to be perfect to be loved—and therein lies the real magic.
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Deborah Quinn, Mannahattamamma of the UAE. Photo credit to the author.
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.
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