by Sisters From Another Mister | Jul 5, 2013 | Adoptive Parents, Communication, Family, Gardening, Home, Kids, Life Lesson, Motherhood, Older Children, Parenting, Women's Rights, World Motherhood
Teaching Responsibility. Responsibility comes in many forms.
I have two girls. They provide constant blog fodder. For the most part, they are okay with that. I even run certain posts by them for approval – after all, it is their story as much as it is mine.
As a parent, we get to help write the stories of our children. The ebb and flow of day-to-day becoming the chapters of their lives through experience and exposure to the world around them.
About a year ago, I wrote a post here called Raising Responsible Citizens. Raising children who are globally aware and are understanding of the need to make a difference in the world is something that is very dear to my heart. It makes me proud to say that my girls have an awareness of the plight of others and the need to be involved. They know the positivity their actions can achieve in bringing change and that their voices can indeed be heard around the world.
This post is a chapter in that book of life on responsibility…because responsibility is a funny thing. We can teach our children about the world and its people, we can teach them laws and rights, and we start when they are just toddlers with the basics of what is right and what is wrong. But what about basic responsibility…let me clarify. (more…)
Sisters From Another Mister ...
A blog born from the love of 'sisters' around the world who come together to lift eachother up no matter where they are on their life journey.
Meet Nicole, a transplanted British born, South African raised, and American made Mom of two girls living on the sunny shores of South Florida, USA. A writer of stories, an avid picture taker and a keeper of shiny memories.
Sharing the travels of a home school journey that takes place around the globe - because 'the world truly is our classroom'. Throw in infertility, adoption, separation, impending divorce (it has its own Doom and Gloom category on the blog) and a much needed added side of European humor is what keeps it all together on the days when it could quite clearly simply fall apart! This segues nicely into Finding a Mister for a Sister for continued amusement.
When not obsessing over the perils of dating as an old person, saving the world thro organisations such as being an ambassador for shot@life, supporting GirlUP, The UN Foundation, ONE.org and being a member of the Global Team of 200 for social good keeps life in the balance.
Be sure to visit, because 'even tho we may not have been sisters at the start, we are sisters from the heart.'
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by Olga Mecking | Jul 1, 2013 | 2013, Being Thankful, Child Care, Family, Girls, Grandparent, Health, Husband, International, Life Lesson, Marriage, Me-Time, Motherhood, Netherlands, Parenting, Siblings, Travel, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Imagine yourself in our situation. Your friends are getting married. The wedding is in beautiful Italy. You decide to go, even if it means leaving your two daughters with your parents-in-law, and just take the baby with you. Your in-laws arrive and you ask them to take your 3-year old to dancing class, show them where all the things are and tell them when to bring the girls to daycare. You’re excited. You pack your bags the day before the wedding and go to bed.
But you don’t sleep. Instead, you talk. You tell your husband that you’re not really happy with this arrangement. That you don’t trust your in-laws enough to leave your children with them. That you don’t even feel good about your decision to leave the children with anyone. In the end you start crying and tell your husband that your eldest daughter doesn’t like you and that you’re the worst mom ever.
And then your husband tells you that you’re an amazing mom. After you calm down and feel somewhat better he tells you that he’s not happy with this arrangement, either. You see, our little girl has just had the chicken pox, and according to my husband’s calculation, our baby would be at risk of getting it right during our trip to Italy. The baby was fussy for the last few days, he has had no fever, but his temperature is slightly elevated. What to do?
Consider two possibilities.
Number one: You decide to stay. You’re afraid that if he’s going to get the chicken pox, it will spoil your whole trip. You don’t want the other children to get it, too, and besides, traveling with a fussy baby full of ugly itchy red spots is no fun. You tell your in-laws in the morning. They stay for a few days, but that’s OK. Your MIL learns to accept your decisions and to get out of your way when you sit down to read a book. You learn to tell her when you’re overwhelmed and exercise your privileges as a mom.
When your children wake up in the morning, you feel as if you haven’t seen them for ages. You’re suddenly full of patience. You’re relieved that you didn’t have to leave without them. You braid your big girl’s hair in twelve pink little braids. You feel great. Your decision isn’t entirely selfless. You don’t trust your in-laws and don’t want to leave the girls with them, and that’s OK.
Number two: You wake up in the morning, check your baby’s temperature and decide he won’t get the chicken pox after all. You pack your bags, kiss the girls goodbye and leave to catch your flight. You have fun at the wedding, you dance and sing and eat delicious food. You realize that you haven’t had a vacation for ages. You enjoy waking up in the morning without having to get three children dressed and ready for the day. You get to have a whole conversation with your husband. You go back home and are happy to see your children again. You feel great and relaxed and you’re sure that going to that wedding was exactly what you needed right now. Your decision isn’t entirely selfish. You know very well that having a short vacation will make you more relaxed and a better mom. And that’s OK, too.
How did we choose? We stayed. I was sad not to be there when our friends said: “I do”. Our son didn’t get the chicken pox; his skin is silky smooth as always. So, was it a bad decision? No. Would it have been a bad decision had we gone? No. The thing is that while I decided to stay, if it hadn’t been for the chicken pox threat, I would have gone to that wedding.
You can make a selfish decision and still be a good mom. You can make a decision seen as selfless and make it for purely selfish reasons. It doesn’t matter. You’re a good mom.
Have you ever been in this sort of predicament? What did/would you do?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our writer and mother of three in The Netherlands, Olga Mecking.
The photograph used in this post is attributed to the author.
Olga is a Polish woman living in the Netherlands with her German husband. She is a multilingual expat mom to three trilingual children (even though, theoretically, only one is trilingual since she's old enough to speak). She loves being an expat, exploring new cultures, learning languages, cooking and raising her children. Occasionally, Olga gives trainings in intercultural communication and works as a translator. Otherwise, you can find her sharing her experiences on her blog, The European Mama. Also take a while to visit her Facebook page .
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by Mirjam | Jun 10, 2013 | Being Thankful, Childhood, Inspirational, International, Life Lesson, Milestones, Motherhood, Netherlands, Parenting, Preschool, School, Siblings, World Motherhood, Younger Children
It has been magical.
Waking up to the sound of a little person chatting.
Starting my mornings with a little person crawling in to bed with me, smiling at me, kissing me.
Carrying a child on my hips, making little ponytails, spoon feeding.
It’s been wonderful to watch the world through tiny eyes.
Eye opening to simply be and sing, laugh or dance on random occasions.
Eskimo kisses, random hugging, silly phrases, chasing and tickling.
It has been freeing to lie on the floor playing with toys; to walk down the streets filled with our fantasies.
Kissing dolls goodnight, searching the house for favorite stuffed animals, driving around singing silly songs.
It’s been heartwarming to be the funniest and smartest person alive, at least in your eyes.
The safest place is no longer exclusively with me.
You are going to school now.
You will spend a big part of the day in someone else’s care.
The world is no longer viewed from within my arm’s length.
Catch length, hug length, hold length.
I hold your hand as I take you to school on your first day.
You’re nervous, and you’re gripping my hand tight.
“Mommy, I’m shy.”
“Don’t worry, the teacher knows you are shy, and she will take good care of you.”
In the class room you spot your favorite activity. Your eyes sparkle with anticipation.
You join two other girls and they immediately start a conversation with you.
Our parting is hasty. You don’t have time for me.
There are colorful shiny papers that demand to be cut and pasted.
Hesitatingly I leave the room.
There are no tears, except maybe in my eyes.
There is no dramatic goodbye, as it should be on a big day like this.
As should be fitting, when you enter into a new era.
Outside I pause in front of the window with your father, hoping to catch your eye so I can wave.
Nothing. You are busy, all consumed with your new environment.
The teacher notices us and taps you on the back. We have to settle with a quick wave from you.
And that’s it.
Just like that my child is all grown.
My day is spent in confusion. I am absent, forgetful, and my eyes are teary.
I have the constant feeling that I’m forgetting something, someone.
At the end of the morning I’m relieved to go and pick you up.
I immediately know that you had a great time. It shows.
As we leave the schoolyard, I watch my oldest while he walks in front of me. He’s all long arms and legs and he is Mr. Cool himself. He is having a vivid conversation with his sister. When did they get so big?
I’m holding your hand. You’re by my side. Close to me. Suddenly you start to pull my hand, you want me to let go. Reluctantly I loose my grip and you run away from me, eager to follow your siblings.
The years I leave behind are truly wonderful.
And I know there is so much more to come.
But I hesitate, I try to hold on to this as long as I can.
Now that I still see traces of that toddler in you.
Now that I can still feel what it was like.
When you were completely mine.
This is an original, first post to World Moms Blog from our new writer in the Netherlands, Mirjam.
The photo used in this post is credited to the author.
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 hjunderway | May 20, 2013 | Being Thankful, Child Care, Childhood, Cultural Differences, Education, Expat Life, Family, France, International, Language, Life Lesson, Living Abroad, Motherhood, Multicultural, Parenting, Preschool, Relocating, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Looking back to my pregnancy as an almost mom to my one and only son, I literally had everything prepared for the first nine months of his life before his eyes ever saw the outside world.
Diapers and clothing gently washed and neatly lined up by size, ready for each growth spurt, each passage from newborn to infant and beyond. I bought “What to Expect….” for the first three years of his existence, pouring over every detail and mentally preparing myself for each developmental stage. I was ready for it all.
My planning served me well for the first three years of my son’s life, and then we up and decided to move to a foreign country. The “What to Expect” books were packed away in long-term storage in the United States, and along with it, my sense of direction as a mother.
We have spent the last year attempting to navigate our way through life in France when French isn’t your primary language, when there aren’t any grandparents to lend a hand, and when all that is familiar becomes a distant dream.
When we arrived in France, my son was 2 years, five months and together we plowed through understanding new social norms, French cuisine, and more recently, the education system.
We did this without a manual, and did okay without it. There were times when I just wanted to type in “raising an American boy in Paris” in Google to look for tips and clarity on what we were doing wrong (or right). If there had been a manual or how-to book, I would have read it 1,000 times and given copies to all of my new expatriate friends with children.
I wasn’t sure that we were doing right by our son when we entered him into a French school at age three (standard practice in France), when the teachers and students couldn’t even pronounce his name correctly. I wasn’t sure that we were doing it right when potty training took a huge deviation and we faced mounting laundry that took forever to dry on racks in our living room.
I know I wasn’t sure that we had done right by our son when he had a meltdown at a friend’s playgroup,hitting and kicking anyone and everyone who came into his path. When I had to pack him up early and head home, I may have had a meltdown myself. Again and again, I was looking for grand gestures in my son’s behavior as proof that he was adjusting appropriately to living in a new country, and I couldn’t find any.
Why do we always look for the grand gestures? Without a guide, we often get caught up looking for the big things and forgetting to spot the small ones.
For example, at 6 months of age, I knew that my son wasn’t able to crawl because he hadn’t developed enough upper body strength to support his head, which was off the charts developmentally. I knew this because the books and doctors told me so, and therefore I had an appropriate course of action to get him back on track. Having a guide instilled in me a parenting confidence that I knew my son and that we were doing everything right, but by whose standards?
Now, a year later and closer to preschool age than that of toddler, I find myself discovering more and more of the small indications that my little one is doing just fine transitioning in our new life abroad. I see it when my son doesn’t realize I’m watching and instead of saying, “Look, look!” with excitement, he yells out, “Regarde, regarde!” (Look in French.)
I see it when he stops to hug a strange toddler crying in the playground, or when he asks me if we can take an airplane home to see his grandparents and cousin. I see it when he takes my hand to cross the street but instead of letting go immediately, he gently slides his thumb repeatedly across my knuckles, something I’ve done to him a thousand times. As time goes on, he becomes more and more self-assured and more at home being who he is. And no manual could have prepared me for that.
Has there been a time when a manual or how-to book couldn’t help you effectively parent your child through a unique situation?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Jacki, an American expatriate mother living in Paris, France.
The image used in this post is credited to the author
Jacki, or “MommaExpat,” as she’s known in the Internet community, is a former family therapist turned stay-at-home mom in Paris, France. Jacki is passionate about issues as they relate to mothers and children on both domestic and international scenes, and is a Volunteer Ambassador for the Fistula Foundation. In addition to training for her first half marathon, Jacki can be found learning French in Paris and researching her next big trip. Jacki blogs at H J Underway, a chronicle of her daily life as a non-French speaking mom in France.
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by Mamma Simona (South Africa) | May 15, 2013 | Expat Life, Friendship, International, Life Lesson, Living Abroad, Relationships, South Africa, Uncategorized
In 1983 I was 14 years old and I’d fallen in love for the first time. The object of my affection was an American boy by the name of Campbell T Fisher Jr (known as Toby). He and his family were sailing around the world in a small yacht. Their “modus operandi” was to stay in a place only for as long as it took them to earn enough money for fuel and provisions (for the next leg of their journey).
From the moment we met at a school dance, we knew that our time together was precious. Back then there were no cell phones (hence no texting) and no Internet. His parents didn’t have a car and mine worked all day, so we used to walk (a lot) to wherever we wanted to go. Money was tight for both of us, so going to watch a movie was a rare treat. The first movie he took me to see was “An Officer and A Gentleman” which was being shown at the Yacht Club where his family’s yacht was anchored. I remember thinking that the movie was so appropriate because Toby was my” officer and gentleman.”
Unfortunately they were only in Cape Town for 6 months. I was totally devastated when he sailed away, but we vowed to keep in touch and get together again as soon as possible. Keeping in touch meant “snail mail.” We’d write long, rambling letters telling each other everything that was happening in our lives. Of course, by the time the letter arrived, most of the news was “stale.” We also sent each other “mixed tapes.” Do you remember those? We’d put together compilations of sappy love songs and mail them to each other! (more…)
Mamma Simona was born in Rome (Italy) but has lived in Cape Town (South Africa) since she was 8 years old. She studied French at school but says she’s forgotten most of it! She speaks Italian, English and Afrikaans. Even though Italian is the first language she learned, she considers English her "home" language as it's the language she's most comfortable in. She is happily married and the proud mother of 2 terrific teenagers! She also shares her home with 2 cats and 2 dogs ... all rescues.
Mamma Simona has worked in such diverse fields as Childcare, Tourism, Library Services, Optometry, Sales and Admin! (With stints of SAHM in-between). She’s really looking forward to the day she can give up her current Admin job and devote herself entirely to blogging and (eventually) being a full-time grandmother!
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by Kyla P'an (Portugal) | May 3, 2013 | Childhood, Culture, Family, Feminism, Girls, Kids, Life Lesson, Motherhood, Parenting, School, Social Media, USA, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Not long ago, I attended a parenting seminar featuring excellent keynote speakers and a number of child development specialists. The seminar must have impacted me more than I realized because this is the second time I find myself writing about sage wisdom imparted during it (the other time I brought it up was in this post).
A major topic of the keynote address centered on how US parents today are getting more involved with their children, sometimes to a detrimental degree.
Most US women of my generation, Gen X—as products of mothers that fought for equality and women’s rights back in the 1960’s—are more accomplished, both academically and professionally, than our fore-mothers. After obtaining college and often graduate school degrees (sometimes more than one), Gen X women go on to establish our financial independence in the workforce; and in many cases, then elect to leave the workforce in order to raise children.
This trend is called “Opting-Out” and it’s common in tony suburbs around the US. But it’s a trend with consequences. Women, who had achieved success professionally find themselves somewhat under-challenged domestically. Eager to apply their professional talents at home, many of these women turn child rearing into a second career. Though fathers are not as likely to Opt Out, some still do, leaving the mother as main bread winner. As a result, helicopter and over-bearing parenting has become ubiquitous; the outcome of which has yielded a population of coddled and unresilient kids.
I am not claiming this phenomenon endemic to the US but it’s certainly a growing concern. Perhaps this is why the message in the parenting seminar’s keynote address by Robert Evans resonated so much for me. He spoke about how today’s parents are so focused on their kids that they are willing to do everything for them: intervene at the slightest sign of trouble; help them with projects and homework the children should be responsible for; even criticize teachers and authority figures for treating their child unfairly. In essence, these parents are clearing life’s path of all obstacles and challenges that would help a child build character, resilience and stamina.
“Parents don’t need to prepare the path for their children…instead, they need to focus on preparing their children for The Path.”
– Bob Evans
Preparing our children for the path…what does that mean exactly? And where do we draw the line?
I would not label either my husband nor myself a helicopter parent—Drill Sargent, perhaps–but as a freelance writer with a flexible work schedule, I avail myself to my children and their school and activity schedules. I’m a room parent, active member of the Parent/Teacher Organization and volunteer for many roles at my children’s schools and extra-curricula. But I don’t think I over-do it.
At my daughter’s elementary school, there’s a rumour that the teachers have an acronym for the (mostly female) parents who should get out of the school and get a job. I don’t know what the acronym is and pray it’s never associated with my name but I can understand why it exists.
In parents’ defense, however, we can’t help feeling more protective and sometimes over-bearing about our kids. We want to be able to let go of their hands and let them find their own way but there are a lot more demons along the path now. Social media, for one, has rendered our lives more public than ever before. I often find myself more concerned about the fall-out of a misstep on Facebook than a misstep in real life. Take for example the recent milestone our daughter achieved, which I was initially so proud of but ultimately never posted online about:
Our house is a half-mile away from our elementary school. To get there, you walk along a lovely open path along a ridge, down the hill across the soccer fields and arrive at the school. You can see the school from the top of our street. My children and I have been walking to school along this path, which we dubbed the Faery Path, for four years now. Recently, we allowed our independent 1st- grader to walk to school on her own. There are other kids in our neighborhood who also walk to school but none of them without a parent. For this reason, I got nervous about it.
I wasn’t nervous for our daughter, she’s a very capable and spunky 7-year-old, I was nervous for what others would think about my decision to let her walk alone; how they would judge my parenting style.
Later that day, when I picked my daughter up from school, she effervesced about how exciting it was to walk to school on her own and how responsible it made her feel. With heavy-heart, I informed her that it was the only time she would get to walk the path on her own for a while.
It’s just not how today’s parents are doing things.
How do you help prepare your children for the Path? Do you feel the judgement of others has a negative outcome on your child rearing decisions?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Senior Editor and mother of two, Kyla P’an.
The image used in this post is credited to Nina Mathew’s Photography. It holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.
Kyla was born in suburban Philadelphia but spent most of her time growing up in New England. She took her first big, solo-trip at age 14, when she traveled to visit a friend on a small Greek island. Since then, travels have included: three months on the European rails, three years studying and working in Japan, and nine months taking the slow route back from Japan to the US when she was done. In addition to her work as Managing Editor of World Moms Network, Kyla is a freelance writer, copy editor, recovering triathlete and occasional blogger. Until recently, she and her husband resided outside of Boston, Massachusetts, where they were raising two spunky kids, two frisky cats, a snail, a fish and a snake. They now live outside of Lisbon, Portugal with two spunky teens and three frisky cats. You can read more about Kyla’s outlook on the world and parenting on her personal blogs, Growing Muses And Muses Where We Go
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