“I don’t want to do that.” She says, meeting my eyes through impossibly long lashes. Her look, direct, strong and almost fierce, isn’t disrespectful. I can’t quite place my finger on what it is, but it pulls at my heartstrings.
I smile her way, touch her shoulder, lean closer. “You have to try.” I whisper, “And we can talk about it after.” She looks down, slumps. Not the reaction I was going for. (more…)
There’s a coffee shop next to my workplace. A mom group meets up there, and when they are in session, I have to navigate an obstacle course of strollers.
Strollers, strollers, everywhere, and if you look closely you might spot the ten pound baby nestled at the heart of each.
Before I had a baby, I always wondered why women need something the size of a shopping cart to transport a bundle the size of a loaf of bread.
Even more baffling to me were the women who choose to lug their babies around by a car seat handle. When I was in grade eleven, I was given an eight pound “baby think-it-over”, which required tending through day and night. The baby (who I dubbed Jan Sebastian and grew deeply attached to, to the dismay of my Family Studies instructor) also came with a plastic car seat.
Tucked in my arms, Jan Sebastian didn’t weigh much and was easy enough to transport. But when I tried to carry him in that plastic seat, my shoulder started to ache.
It made me wonder what I was missing – why do so many women subject themselves to this? (more…)
Carol from If By Yes has lived in four different Canadian provinces as well as the Caribbean. Now she lives in Vancouver, working a full time job at a vet clinic, training dogs on the side, and raising her son and daughter to be good citizens of the world. Carol is known for wearing inside-out underwear, microwaving yoghurt, killing house plants, over-thinking the mundane, and pointing out grammatical errors in "Twilight". When not trying to wrestle her son down for a nap, Carol loves to read and write. Carol can also be found on her blog, If By Yes, and on Twitter @IfByYesTweets
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Hot sweltering weather in Chennai
Whoever coined the phrase, ‘bright cheerful sunny day’ had not been to Chennai. Do you know what they say about the weather in Chennai? There are only 3 seasons in Chennai: hot, hotter, and hell!
Even though technically summer and summer vacation are over and schools have reopened, it still is either ‘hot’ or ‘hotter’ depending on your luck. ‘Hell’ is over with May. Or is it? It still displayed 110F on my mobile yesterday, and Chennai is the most sultry and humid place to live. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love my home and my life here, but it still has its disadvantages.In the beginning of summer, we decided that my son and I would spend the entire summer at my parents’ place. I was born and brought up there, and the weather is just awesome. It is located at the base of a hill station and you can find rolling plains, lush green fields, and pleasant weather with cool breeze all through the year. Heaven indeed! (more…)
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.
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Raising a mixed-culture child is unique, there’s no doubt about it. There’s a lot of mix-and-match of parenting techniques until we finally find our own little blend of both cultures that works for my son and me.
Besides the obvious ability of him to speak bilingual, Indonesian and English, we have a lot of aspects that we assimilate and incorporate from both cultures.
It all started even before he was born. My dotting mother, a.k.a. the first-time-grandma, bombarded me with advice from the moment she found out I was expecting her first grandbaby.
Founder of Single Moms Indonesia, community leader and builder. Deeply passionate about women empowerment.
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Before moving to Kenya, along with updating our vaccines and strategically packing our belongings to fit our meager bag allowance, one of the things I prepared myself for was the possibility of having house help. Both my husband and I would be working and we’d be living in a rural area, so we’d need someone to help look after our son. And unless I wanted to spend 20 hours a week washing our clothes by hand, we’d need to hire some house help. I’m not exaggerating when I say I hated the idea.
I consider myself hardworking and self-reliant, so I hated the idea of someone doing something for me that I could do myself. I’m a private person, so I hated the idea of someone observing, maybe judging, the interior of our lives. I’m a natural people pleaser, so I hate the idea of being someone’s boss in my own home.
More than anything I hated the prospect of putting someone in, what I thought, was a subservient position and, if I’m being honest with myself, bringing someone in who would be a continual reminder of the uncomfortable inequities of the world. Someone who could see what we spent on things like groceries and petrol and compare that unfavorably with her monthly salary.
And coming from the US, there was probably something in the recesses of my subconscious that was reflexively uncomfortable with being a light skinned person hiring a darker skinned person to clean my unmentionables. It’s a relationship loaded with historic and cultural baggage. (more…)
Originally from Chicago, Kim has dabbled in world travel through her 20s and is finally realizing her dream of living and working in Western Kenya with her husband and two small boys, Caleb and Emmet. She writes about tension of looking at what the family left in the US and feeling like they live a relatively simple life, and then looking at their neighbors and feeling embarrassed by their riches. She writes about clumsily navigating the inevitable cultural differences and learning every day that we share more than we don’t. Come visit her at Mama Mzungu.
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Just because I am a list maker doesn’t mean I always have it all together. And just because I check things off the list, on-time, and double-check each list, doesn’t mean I’m able to feel calm and confident. Not when it comes to moving my whole life and family half way around the world it doesn’t. No. Last week, I satisfactorily ticked off items on my list for moving to Vientiane, Laos from Washington DC, USA. This week, I feel nervous and uncertain about every single aspect of our lives that will change.
It’s the things that you can’t tick off of lists, uncontrollable unpredictable things, that throw you out of your comfort zone and force you to surrender to new and different ways of going about the business of everyday life. It all works out in the end, sometimes even for the better. Yet you end up feeling off kilter having to tilt your head sideways to feel balanced while it’s happening. Eventually, life is normalized again and your posture corrects itself. But this takes time.
So what do I do to stay grounded during this period of high anxiety? I try to accomplish the things I CAN do, focus on the things that I have control over. Like my lists. Read on if you’d like to get a sense of my world at the moment, in all it’s wanderlust and jet-setting glamor. (more…)
