"I'm not sure I want to go to college," my daughter said to me. I guess the look on my face made it pretty clear what I thought of that, and she hastily amended it with, "For the first year, I mean." "You want to take a year off?" I clarified. "Yeah. I just don't think I need to start right away." I chewed my lip, considering my words carefully.
The book Are You There, God? It’s me, Margaret by Judy Blume, who recently celebrated her 77th birthday, is the reason behind my first “sex” talk with my mother.
I don’t remember how old I was, maybe eight or nine when I read the book, but I do remember thinking that I was pretty savvy for knowing what a bra was. I guess that sounds fairly innocent now. Back then elementary school kids weren’t snapchatting pics of their privates. Anyway, I was proud of myself for understanding most of the material.
I’m leaning against the clearance rack when Justin Timberlake’s voice fills the store. He’s singing about his suit and tie, which seems appropriate since my daughter is in the fitting room trying on semi-formal dresses....more
Boys and girls, males and females, ladies and gentlemen etc. are the names of the two opposite genders. They are different and this is the universal truth. Whether you take into account their behavior, physical strength or mental skills, there is a difference in how they do, perceive and achieve things. Even though the modern world tries to prove hard that these differences are merely theoretical and when given equal opportunity they are nearly the same, it doesn’t prove that they are the same. No matter what we do, we can’t change the way these two different specimens think....more
I may be totally off, but there are so many connotations to this phrase that I might just be safe meandering into a new one. When William Wordsworth used the phrase "Child is the father of man", he alone knew what exactly he meant but literature buffs and critics over time have provided their own interpretations....more
She turned sixteen yesterday.
She's no longer the sweet chubby-faced baby I knew so well. I knew every inch of her, in the knowing way of mothers, from the curls that swooped around her curving ears to her fat little toes I kissed each morning.
I knew her quirks and her desires, how she liked her oatmeal and how her brother made her squeal. She made me beam with just her existence. And her face would light up like a mirror of mine when she saw me.
Fiber One Memories
In a way, looking back, it seemed a long, long time since she had been eighteen, but in another way her memories were so clear and vivid that it seemed like yesterday. ~Helen Hooven Santmyer
Zowie, but the kid was a screamer.First, she had colic, a condition that also made me cry a lot. Poor Byron would desperately knead my hand, pleading, “What can I do? Just tell me what I can do.” That’s what it looked like as I read his lips, anyhow. For all I could hear, he might actually have been saying, “Do you have a hoe? Joe has a nice rainbow.”Some months later, half-deaf and -dead from the colic, we attempted sleep training....more