World Voice: Life in President Trump’s First 100 Days

World Voice: Life in President Trump’s First 100 Days

April 29th will mark President Donald Trump’s 100th day in office.

As a foreigner, I have watched the news feeling extremely grateful that I gained American citizenship during the last administration. As a foreigner who looks of ambiguous origin and definitely not of any Caucasian descent, I wonder if I will ever be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the mother of three children who mostly look African American, I wonder how their lives will be here in their own country. As the mother of one of my children whose last name is Arabic, and who could pass for Arab or Indian, I wonder if she would be red-flagged during travel. As an American citizen, I wonder where we are headed for, and to be honest, I feel like the magnitude of the situation is beyond our spectrum of understanding.

I do not tend to get into politics very often. I do my best to look at the character of the candidate before voting, without paying attention to the party she, or he, belongs to. However, this time the outcome of the presidential race was quite different than what most people expected, and so far President Trump has been in the news so much that even small children know his name, and some have not yet spoken or been too aware of the name ‘Obama’. It’s remarkably impressive.

With President Trump in office, it feels necessary to stay up to date with news of his actions, because one does not know what extreme thing will have happened between one day and the next.

A number of decisions that President Trump has made, ensure that some of us sit at the edge of our seats, or walk around the living room in circles with our hands on our hands, wondering if this is all an episode from the twilight zone.

If I may be honest, I really held, and in a smaller fraction still hold, hope for President Trump to be a great president. Why? Because he is not a politician, and being a politician is not a constitutional requirement to be a US President. When he was elected I thought that here is a person, specifically a white male in America who has money (so he won’t have to pay as much attention to lobbying influence), who sounds bold enough to make decisions that could cause some serious good change! A person who is a bit eccentric in his own ways, but that is not a bad thing. A person who gained the love of many Americans by showing them love and value. I felt that maybe his rhetoric was more on the side of … wrong, but that he actually will make things right, or improve upon what President Obama’s administration built.

However, with changes on the government’s take on climate change, health, internet privacy , immigration, travel from certain countries; but really the reasons behind the Travel Ban,  separating the United States from Mexico, despite environmental issues that will arise (not discussing separation or blocking of people from entering the country), issues to do with Natives/First Nations and the bit of land over which they have sovereignty, I am no longer an idealist about what is going to happen.

(One can see a list of things President Trump has worked on as of January 30, 2017, by clicking here).

I wonder about the relationship between Americans of various ethnic backgrounds now that we are under this new presidency.

I personally know two people (one a child) who was insulted based on race, the day after President Trump was named president-elect.

I wonder how much the choices, that President Trump is making will impact American soil and the planet at large.

Planet Earth will always take care of herself, but I feel in her doing so, we may not fare that well.

So now, 27 days away from President Trump’s first 100 days, all I can think to do is pray. Sincerely pray for him every single day. I admit it sounds cliche, but I think it can only be so if it is not meant. I do not intend to hold prayer meetings for him, or ardently and with much effort be in prayer for him. I just mean, that every single day, I want to suggest to this amazing universe to put the thought in President Trump’s heart to make the right decision. Maybe it sounds like I care more about this president than others, but I really don’t. I do care about how they all make decisions. I just feel that as being one of the major players in how the world works, it is imperative that we all make a daily, prayerful suggestion that President Trump make the right decisions.

Have you faced similar feelings about the new president in your country?

Do you have any fears or concerns with regards to President Trump’s actions thus far?

Do you feel he can do a great job in leading this country and as a global team player?

Photo Credit: Flickr


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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NEW ZEALAND: Leaving a Sad Relationship

NEW ZEALAND: Leaving a Sad Relationship

sad relationshipI didn’t have a bad marriage.

I wasn’t beaten or mistreated.

My ex never had an affair.

Money stressors were manageable.

We rarely argued.

To the outside world we seemed absolutely fine. But we weren’t.

It was, for me, an intensely sad marriage. And for a long time I couldn’t work out why. Here was a perfectly pleasant man who wished me well and who responded to my affection. He worked hard and was what most of us would call a “good guy”. He still is. But my self-esteem was dropping and my mood was becoming a habitual mix of frustration and melancholy.

It was one of those slow drifts downwards, like water eroding rock.

Then, around 10 years ago, he was diagnosed with something call Alexithymia. It’s not a mental disorder but more of a fixed personality trait. It’s common in those formally on the autism spectrum, in those with Post Traumatic Stress Disorders and in some of us with attachment issues from our early childhood.

Basically, anyone with Alexithymia cannot identify the bodily sensations that go along with their emotions. They still have the same sensations but are unable to distinguish between them and label them. They also have a very limited imaginative life, which sounds fine, until you realise predicting outcomes and taking steps to avoid the less desirable ones, are in fact, a product of our imagination.

These two issues give rise to a deep lack of empathy and ability to relate to another human being. Sympathy –the intellectual understanding of the experience of another–can happen but the actual feeling of an emotion, as another has it, in the sense of true empathy, cannot.

For me, this meant I would have to be sobbing in front of my ex before he understood I was sad, and then have to tell him to give me a hug, as the appropriate response. He did not mean to be uncaring. He just never understood subtle body language or had the instinctive responses that most of us have.

There are always three choices in a situation: To alter it; to put up with it; or to leave.

For many years I did my best to see if things could change. I offered to go back to work, so he could get therapy. I suggested counselling, on more than one occasion. None of these offers were ever taken up.

The more I read about Alexithymia, the more I realised… I would never be taken up on any of these. People with Alexithymia see the rest of us as over-emotional and confusing. They cannot see why they would leave their completely logical realms. Their idea of a perfect partner is a kind body in the house with whom there is as little emotional deviation and routines are maintained – this was exactly what our marriage was.

As time went by, I became increasingly distant and detached. At times, I became unpleasant and down right bitchy. Then, around three years ago, someone asked me what made me happy. And I couldn’t tell them. From being someone who was a perpetual optimist, I was by then emotionally dead – aside from experiencing frustration and melancholy. It was a massive wake up call and I knew something had to change.

It did take three years for me to be ready. There is a comfort in familiarity that is enticing. But in the end, my physical body was beginning to suffer, my older boys were finding the emotional disconnect from their father tough going and the other side of the leap to leave seemed less stressful than staying.

I am sure I was by no means the perfect partner either. But I share this here because these are immensely lonely and soul-destroying relationships to be in – and many who are in them either think they are going crazy or that they are the only ones ever to have this experience or some combination of both. But neither are true.

You’re not crazy. You’re not alone. The shell of the outside relationship that the world sees is not the whole story.

I understand.

Have you ever known someone with Alexithymia? Tell us your tale.

This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our long-time contributor and mother to three in New Zealand, Karyn Sparkles Willis.

The image used in this post is attributed to Nathan Jones. It carries a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.

Karyn Wills

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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AUSTRALIA:  My Boys Drive Me Crazy With Worry…Still

AUSTRALIA: My Boys Drive Me Crazy With Worry…Still

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIt’s 8.27pm on the day this post is due and I have a dozen excuses for why I wasn’t going to make the deadline. But the biggest excuse is probably that I’m a mum and plans went astray and that none of those excuses will cut it with the audience and contributors on World Mom Blogs – because most of us are mums with our own daily battles to overcome.

I will tell you my excuses though, because it proves we never stop being mums, we never stop worrying about our children and sometimes they continue to drive us crazy with frustration, regardless of how old they are.

My twenty four year old son was a difficult teenager and never really got on with his step-dad, he’s been out of home for 8 years. He and his fiancé separated 18 months ago, with a baby in the mix to further complicate things. To say the last 18 months have been difficult for him to adjust to her leaving would be an understatement. His uncle on his dad’s side committed suicide last year and he took that badly too.

All of this drama in his life culminated in him getting evicted from his house early this year, and it’s been downhill since then. He moved in with his new girlfriend’s parents a few weeks ago and let’s suffice to say a whole series of drama and problems and stressing about his situation ended up with him losing his job.

Yes I’m now almost totally grey from stress and worry. Don’t be misled in thinking that once they move out and have their own families that the worry stops. This boy of mine has always been hard work, I love him to pieces but I continue to want to strangle him some days.

Work got crazy last Wednesday for me with a co-worker taking a sudden 5-week sick leave. I was immediately thrown into a Corporate Property Management role with no knowledge whatsoever of what I was doing. Massive workloads and plenty of stress – are you feeling sorry for me yet?

Thursday morning my son rings to say he and his girlfriend are having problems and can he come home. No money, no job and nowhere to live. Add in a stepfather who wasn’t keen on him coming home given their past history and I was worrying myself stupid. Grandson joined the mix for the weekend, so it was: hubby and I, eldest son, 18-year-old son and his girlfriend, 15-year-old son and 2 year old grandson squished into a 3-bedroom house.

It’s been a tough week, I’m tired, I’m strung out and I suddenly wish for the years long ago when the greatest stress my boys provided was them wrestling on the floor or fist fighting. Once upon a time I longed for them to get older and look after themselves.

Being a mum and caring and worrying – that never ends.

So while my excuses are valid to me they don’t really cut it for not doing something I said I would do – we all have drama to deal with, we’re mums and we battle on.

Coming home to live with mum had its rules, I told son to doorknock businesses with resume in hand until he found a job. No sitting on his butt claiming unemployment benefits in this house. Mum is always right, he got a call today and starts a new job tomorrow. He’s also gone to stay with his dad from tonight until he can find a new house – dad’s got more room for him.
So the week from hell has a happy result.

So my advice to all of you: enjoy the sibling rivalry, the battles, and the sleepless nights – because once you’re the mother of teenagers or adults, then you can throw grandchildren and partners in to further complicate the motherhood journey.

As much as I want to throw my boys in their rooms and tell them to pull their heads in and behave themselves, it’s not that easy anymore. How I wish it was.

Do your kids ever drive you crazy? What’s your biggest battle with them these days? What advice would you pass on to other mothers?

This is an original World Moms Blog post by Fiona from Inspiration to Dream of Adelaide, South Australia.

The photograph used in this post is credited to the author.

Fiona Biedermann (Australia)

Fiona at Inspiration to Dream is a married mother of three amazing and talented MM’s (mere males, as she lovingly calls them) aged 13, 16 and 22, and she became a nana in 2011! She believes she’s more daunted by becoming a nana than she was about becoming a mother! This Aussie mother figures she will also be a relatively young nana and she’s not sure that she’s really ready for it yet, but then she asks, are we ever really ready for it? Motherhood or Nanahood. (Not really sure that’s a word, but she says it works for her.) Fiona likes to think of herself as honest and forthright and is generally not afraid to speak her mind, which she says sometimes gets her into trouble, but hey, it makes life interesting. She’s hoping to share with you her trials of being a working mother to three adventurous boys, the wife of a Mr Fix-it who is definitely a man’s man and not one of the ‘sensitive new age guy’ generation, as well as, providing her thoughts and views on making her way in the world. Since discovering that she’s the first blogger joining the team from Australia, she also plans to provide a little insight into the ‘Aussie’ life, as well. Additionally, Fiona can be found on her personal blog at Inspiration to Dream.

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TresholdIt 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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