Posts tagged mother
Filling the Emptiness
Filling the Emptiness

My two young children, clad in neon swimsuits, danced around impatiently in the backyard, checking on the progress every now and then.  Our new inflatable pool—turquoise and gray with an attached blow-up slide—was being filled with the garden hose; it was taking forever for any noticeable progress.  It was mid-June and the Wisconsin weather was in the low 70’s; I wasn’t about to tell my kids that even when the pool had filled to an acceptable volume, the sun still had to heat the water, cold and sputtering from the spigot, and that it was likely to take days, not hours. 

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MotherhoodJulia NusbaumFeminist, mother, Motherhood, parent, wisconsin, childrenComment
Caution: Memories in the Mirror May Be Closer than They Appear
Caution: Memories in the Mirror May Be Closer than They Appear

The road unfolds in front of us, a black ribbon of tarmac glittering in the summer heat. It is one of many roads I have taken. The rearview mirror reflects the same view, a yellow dotted line that connects us to the next destination, and the previous. Were we ever there? Over a hill, the road disappears, and I wonder if we too will disappear as we follow it.

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Traveling WomenGuest Usertravel, traveling women, mother, driving Comment
Skipping Stones
Skipping Stones

At a beach on Madeline Island, my son and daughter searched for skipping stones, flat and smooth, perfectly sized to fit their little hands. They would have been six and nine that summer. We had gone to the island to sightsee, a day trip to visit a friend of my husband who had retired there. She drove us to a quiet inlet tucked safely away from the mighty waves of Lake Superior, and there we walked across the rose gold sand and there we found the stones.

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Summer DaysGuest Userfamily, memories, summer, motherComment
The Dinosaurs of Parkchester Public Library
The Dinosaurs of Parkchester Public Library

I didn’t learn to read until I was eight years old, a full month into second grade. It’s not something that entirely made sense, since I had learned how to spell simple words in the previous year, and I could speak English with the same ease as Spanish since the end of kindergarten. Reading, however, was something that had slipped past until the day my teacher took me aside, bewildered by my scattershot collection of knowledge.

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Our Grandmother's StoriesGuest Usergrandmother, reading, mother, childhoodComment
Star Stuff
Star Stuff

The story starts more than 4.6 billion years ago. Somewhere in the Local Group, the cluster of galaxies that the Milky Way lives in, a star died. It might not have been a massive star—maybe only five suns big. But it grew too big to support itself, and so it burned out. The outsides exploded, throwing dust and star matter into the universe—a supernova—and the core collapsed in on itself. The engine of its heart gave one last pump and ceased to exist. It left behind a dense neutron star, and a cloud of debris.

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GriefGuest Usergrief, mother, Daughter Comment
Dear Joanna
Dear Joanna

Dear Past Me,

Congratulations. You are flying high and holding on tight. From the perspective of those on the ground, it seems like you could be floating up there forever, gripping the strings of a colorful bunch of balloons, symbols of success in a society that requires outward markers. One of yours is filled with the confidence of a post-graduation job as a public defender, where you will save the lives of your clients and probably fix the entire criminal justice system while you’re at it.

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Dear Past MeGuest Userdear past me, mother, workingComment
The Burning Truth
The Burning Truth

As my parents’ only child, I always listened for bits of grown-up news or gossip, especially when they spoke in hushed tones or in “code.” Without siblings to distract me away from the business of the adults, I was often privy to all sorts of dirt. But, whenever I asked a question about something I overheard, my mother shamed me back to childhood with comments like, “Little pitchers have big ears!” or even better, in Italian, “Fatti gli affari tuoi!”

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Family SecretsGuest Userfamily secrets, family, father, motherComment
Father Figure
Father Figure

You remember your father’s fingers curling around the head of your new born baby. They are long, the nails rectangular and pared, clean pink and white, like the baby. Her head fills one of his hands and he uses the other to cradle her body neatly to him. He has his hands full, which is why, when the tears start to leak out of his eyes, he has to turn away, towards the window in the corner of the hospital room.

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SecretsJulia Nusbaumsecrets, abuse, mother, fatherComment
Dear Karen
Dear Karen

Dear Past Me,

It’s your first day of college sleeping under crisp new sheets in your bed in your dorm room. You’re listening to your roommates breathing softly in the dark, two complete strangers who have been randomly picked to become your best friends, the people whom you are to navigate through this scary change with. You’re questioning the first big decision your mom has not made for you: college.

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Dear Past MeJulia Nusbaumdear past me, confidence, Finding myself, mother Comment