USA:  Why READ?

USA: Why READ?

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As my youngest has started to work on learning to read and write in kindergarten, and my oldest lays on the couch for hours lost in a book, I’ve been reflecting about books and reading.  A book is so much more than just paper and ink and the binding that holds it together.  Books can be entertaining, but most importantly, they teach us new things and help us broaden our understanding of the world we live in.  It turns out reading books also does so much more, especially for our children.   (more…)

Eva Fannon (USA)

Eva Fannon is a working mom who lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her hubby and two girls. She was born and raised on the east coast and followed her husband out west when he got a job offer that he couldn't refuse. Eva has always been a planner, so it took her a while to accept that no matter how much you plan and prepare, being a mom means a new and different state of "normal". Despite the craziness on most weekday mornings (getting a family of four out the door in time for work and school is no easy task!), she wouldn't trade being a mother for anything in the world. She and her husband are working on introducing the girls to the things they love - travel, the great outdoors, and enjoying time with family and friends. Eva can be found on Twitter @evafannon.

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GREECE: The Lessons of Loss

GREECE: The Lessons of Loss

lessons of loss

The last photo of the author and her brother with their mom.

There once was a little girl who lost her mother. She was too young to fully understand the concept of never. She had a secret belief that people were making a silly mistake when they gently   explained that her mommy would never be coming home again.

The little girl secretly believed her mommy had just taken a long vacation. Her Daddy told her that Mommy was in a special type of hospital for people who were sick and needed to rest.

Since the little girl was smart and precocious, she imagined her mother had  taken a much needed rest and gone on holiday with the traveling circus, which recently had been in town. Hadn’t Mommy admired the clowns and acrobats SO much? Wouldn’t this be a great way to get better after all the medicine the little girl had secretly seen her mommy  take when she thought nobody was watching…

As the months and then years dragged on and Mommy didn’t come back, the girl started to realise that the traveling circus probably wasn’t the reason her mother had left.

Instead, she started to suspect that her parents had gotten a divorce and her father had custody of the 2 children since his wife was sick. This had happened to a boy in the little girl’s class at school.

She still couldn’t accept the fact her mother was gone for good.

Things began to get difficult at home and at school too. At first the other children were sympathetic because their teacher had told them that the little girl was going through difficult times at home and needed help and understanding from her classmates.

Eventually though, when the girl started coming to school with untidy hair and wearing grubby, mismatched socks, most of the kids started calling her names and telling her she was a freak.

She DID look and act weird, she knew. The sad truth was that she FELT like a freak, and that was even worse.

When other girls went on sleepovers and to birthday parties, on shopping trips and visits to the local swimming pool with their moms, the little girl wasn’t invited. The mothers felt awkward and embarrassed trying to organise these things with the girl’s father. The father said he needed his daughter to stay home and look after her little brother and he couldn’t spare her as he had to work. After a few kind attempts, the invitations dried up.

Although help was offered to the father at first, his depressed and confused mental health gradually repelled those who were trying to help him support his 2 young children. After losing all of his teeth and most of his hair due to extreme stress, he realised he couldn’t cope alone anymore. He suffered a nervous breakdown and was forced to go back to his country of origin to seek help from estranged relatives.

This is the traumatic beginning of my early life and the reason I lived in a fantasy world following the death of my mother, when I was just six years old.

My family had left England a few years earlier and gone to live in Australia for a better life. We really did have a perfect lifestyle for a couple of years until my beloved mother became sick and died of cancer before the age of 30.

I remember with utmost shock how I refused to believe my mother was actually dead. I’m staggered now at how I stubbornly clung to elaborate fantasies about her REAL whereabouts and my utter refusal to grasp reality.

The other thing I remember with clarity is the nastiness of some and the true kindness of others.

Although virtually everyone was supportive and helpful at first, this really didn’t last long. After a relatively short period of time, I became an object of ridicule and target for bullies. My father was going through his own catastrophic demise and I basically had to  fend for myself as well as bring up my  younger brother.

It’s not easy for a 6-and-a-half-year-old to cook, clean and look after herself and her 4-year-old brother as well.

I went to school looking unkempt and bedraggled most of the time and the fantasies I told about my mother must have scared my schoolmates, who knew she had passed on. I was called names and  kids threw stones at me because I was so different from them. In my class I was the only one from a single-parent home at that time.

Nowadays, of course, single-parent families are commonplace. Back then it wasn’t the norm and other kids made me feel that somehow it was my fault; I was stigmatized.

Coming from another country and speaking with a different accent didn’t help either. I was unacceptably different on so many levels.

When I first met my Greek husband decades later, one of his relatives praised him for being such a good Christian, offering to marry not only a foreigner but an orphan too!!!

It seems that in many cultures the child is responsible and pays for the parents “crimes.”

I remember a limited amount of kindness during my formative years and so try my best to instill a sense of compassion and respect for ALL living things in my children. I tell them that it really doesn’t matter how many possessions a person has that gives them value but how they treat others that counts. The way they interact with others is the true measure of their worth.

As a result of my childhood, I know that the kindness and compassion we show to a person can shape their whole future, for better or worse.

If we could all impart this wisdom in our children, wouldn’t the world be such a better place?

Have you had any childhood traumas that have made you passionate about something in adulthood? How do you encourage your kids to show kindness to others?

This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our contributor in Greece and mum to two, Ann Marie Wright.

The image used in this post is attributed to the author.

Ann Marie Wraight

Having lived in 4 different countries, Ann Marie finds it difficult to give a short answer about where she's from. She regards herself: Brit by birth, Aussie by nature, with a sprinkling of Greek and German based on her insatiable appetite for tasty food and chilled beer! This World Mom has been married to her Greek soulmate for 16 years and they are the proud but constantly challenged parents of two overactive teenage boys. (She secretly wonders sometimes if she was given the wrong babies when she left the maternity clinic.) She can't explain the fascination and ability that her 13 and 14 year-olds show in math and physics or that both boys are ranked 1st and 2nd nationally in judo. Ann Marie can only conclude that those years of breastfeeding, eating home cooked meals and home tutoring really DO make a difference in academic and physical performance! The family is keeping its fingers crossed that---with the awful economic crash in Greece---continued excellence in math and/or judo will lead to university scholarships... In addition to writing, enjoying a good glass of wine and movies, Ann Marie also works as a teacher and tends their small, free-range farm in the Greek countryside.

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MEXICO: Life Lesson: Kittens In A Backpack

MEXICO: Life Lesson: Kittens In A Backpack

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As a wife of one and a mom of four, it seems like I am always learning and discovering! I know I am not alone. It doesn’t matter where we live, let’s just admit it:

The world is a big place, life is a lesson, and children can be the best teachers.

Here are my most recent insights and experiences as a Mexico Mom: (more…)

Tina Marie Ernspiker

Tina lives abroad in Mexico with her husband and four children. She is active with homeschool, travel, and her Bible ministry. Tina loves photography and writing thus she blogs. Come join her adventures!

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POLAND: These Are The Days . . .

POLAND: These Are The Days . . .

Bagel necklaces

Can we just stay in a world where bagel necklaces solve all of our problems?

Shocked. Confused. Completely taken aback. That’s what happened the other day when I was watching my two young girls on the playground and elementary-aged kids came out to play.  Horrible language, bullying, and throwing around malicious comments about looks, behavior, and sexual orientation.

Those words.  Those attitudes.  That scrutiny. I was so suddenly jolted from my innocent little world of swings and sand castles and hoisted into a “big kid” universe that I was disbelieving of what was happening around me.

I had so many questions. How do these kids even know these words?  Should I do something to intervene?  And then the realization hit.  My children, now ages 5, 3 and nearly 2, will be thrown into similar situations in the not-so-distant future.  And what would they do in this situation?  Have I taught them to respect others?  To be the right kind of friend?

And close behind became a second epiphany.  These are the days.  The days to appreciate.  The days not to take for granted. I think I have problems when my 20 month old won’t go down for a nap on the first try.  Or when my kindergartener drops an entire box of Cheerios on the floor.  When my three-year old refuses to wear anything but her Olaf sweatshirt.  When my toddler eats Play Doh. Problems. These are our “problems.”

Sometimes I find myself complaining, maligning the fact that my children can’t quite do things for themselves yet. After my encounter on the playground, I’ll keep my problems and multiply them by one hundred before wishing for my kids to grow up.

Yes, I’ll happily read “Old McDonald Had A Farm” 100 times in a row, help you put on your socks and velcro your shoes, and carry you when you are just too tired to walk anymore, because these “problems” are not really problems at all.   They are tiny – nearly microscopic – bumps in the road to becoming independent.

And as not-so-subtly thrown in my face that day on the playground, I realized that as children grow up, their problems become more delicate, emotional, and serious.  The problems that they face are more complicated and likely to impact others.

Can someone please find a way to make time stand still?  Because I don’t want to get to the more serious stuff.  I want them to stay young, innocent, and oblivious to mean behavior, bad language, and unforgiving situations.  And I want my problems to revolve around Cheerios and Play Doh rather than the much, much harder stuff.

But try as I may, I can’t freeze time.  They will grow up and make choices on their own. And when they reach that point, my hope is that the example I have set for them is to be kind; love others; empathize; have unwavering confidence in who they are; and surround themselves with the right people.  If they adopt that attitude, maybe we will be able to navigate the real problems with greater ease.

Just a few weeks ago, I volunteered to read to my son’s class. He proudly sat in my lap as I read, and when we left school that day, he asked, “Mommy, can you go on the next field trip with us?  You know mommies are allowed to go on field trips.”  It didn’t take me long to find a babysitter for my younger two so that I could chaperone his next trip.

Ornament Factory

Happy to chaperone my son’s field trip to the ornament factory

I’m not going to let these days pass me by – these days when they are impressionable, eager to listen and learn, and want me around.  I’m going to use them as wisely as I can.  Instead of thinking I have problems when my toddler throws her winter hat off for the tenth time in one day or my three year old melts down when her brother doesn’t bring her something from the school bake sale. I will think about how trivial our “problems” are in comparison to the more grown-up situations they will soon face.

And I will use the extra time I have not obsessing over the small things but to teach them how to embrace the qualities that will serve them well on that critical day when they have to start making important choices on their own.

This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our mom to three and writer in Poland, Loren Braunohler.

The images used in this post are attributed to the author.

Loren Braunohler

Loren Braunohler is a former U.S. diplomat turned stay-at-home mom and freelance writer. She is a world traveler who avoids the cold (don't ask why she is currently in Poland). Former assignments have included Mozambique, Venezuela, Australia, Sudan, Thailand and Washington, D.C. She enjoys running, although she probably enjoys sleeping even more. Loren blogs about her family's international adventures and parenting at www.toddlejoy.com.

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USA: The Ones You Have

USA: The Ones You Have

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I remember when I was little playing with my dolls and pretending that I was a mom from a very young age. I don’t think I ever remember a time when I was young thinking I wouldn’t have children. I remember coming up with names for girls and boys. As I grew up and got married and the thought of having my own children became more and more real, I began thinking and dreaming of what they would be like. (more…)

Meredith (USA)

Meredith finds it difficult to tell anyone where she is from exactly! She grew up in several states, but mainly Illinois. She has a Bachelor of Science degree in Elementary Education from the University of Illinois at Champaign/Urbana which is also where she met her husband. She taught kindergarten for seven years before she adopted her son from Guatemala and then gave birth to her daughter two years leter. She moved to Lagos, Nigeria with her husband and two children in July 2009 for her husband's work. She and her family moved back to the U.S.this summer(August 2012) and are adjusting to life back in the U.S. You can read more about her life in Lagos and her adjustment to being back on her blog: We Found Happiness.

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WORLD VOICE: World Prematurity Day

WORLD VOICE: World Prematurity Day

Rox & T
My son and I the day after his premature birth.

My son was born 7 weeks early. He spent the first 78 days of his life living in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). A dozen nurses helped his father and I take care of him, watching him and feeding him when we weren’t able to be there. They taught us how to hold him, how to feed him, how to change his diaper. They showed us how to swaddle him when he was upset. When he accidentally ripped his nasogastric tube out a dozen times, they showed us how to replace it (though we never really did) so he would continue to receive the breast milk I spent hours each day pumping so he would have as many nutrients as possible. (more…)

Roxanne (USA)

Roxanne is a single mother to a 9-year-old superhero (who was born 7 weeks premature), living in the biggest little city and blogging all about her journey at Unintentionally Brilliant. She works as a Program Coordinator for the NevadaTeach program at the University of Nevada, Reno. Roxanne has a B.A. in English from Sierra Nevada College. She has about 5 novels in progress and dreams about completing one before her son goes to high school.

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