Thank YOU. This poem made me smile this morning. And that picture, I can see exactly why you’ve shared it before. Beautiful. Also, I know that facial expression that happens when we forget for a minute to pretend for our children that the world is safe. I keep having it too. Going quiet on car rides. Trying not to cry making breakfast. Only to say, I’m with you. And appreciate you being with me too ❤️
I decided not to sugar coat any aspect of the modern civilization around us as we raised our boys. We felt compelled both to give them a safe and happy childhood but also tried to make them aware of the misery, the inequality and unfairness of it all, especially if they inquired about it.
I was raised the way I describe above but Laurie had a rare, lovely all girl childhood from all aspects and so we disagreed on the upbringing of the boys, which caused the worst moments and a great threat to our marriage. After counseling we agreed that I would father the boys unimpeded and she would mother them also unimpeded. The sons, now 32 and 34, still talk about my harshness and the consequences for their actions. And they recalled Laurie’s sweetness, kindness and forgiveness and oddly enough, they look back at all of it with equal humor and warmth.
I once made them scrub the basement floor with very small brushes for behaving like thoughtless morons and just this past Christmas were remembering asking for bigger brushes and I said bullies don’t get bigger brushes and they howled with laughter recalling that and I didn’t remember a bit of it.
“Bullies don’t get bigger brushes” is hilarious! I’m so glad they look back with fondness on both kinds of parenting. My adult kids are still so young, but even they have memories of things I said that make me cringe, which they (sometimes) laugh about.
I know what you mean. I sensed there’s perhaps more here seeking to come out. But that’s part of its charm! (Lovely to hear from you btw. Apologies if I’ve been a bit quiet recently- I’ve been a bit distracted from Substack - but I’m slowly finding my way back into it!).
As my husband always says to me, “No sorries!” I’ve been a little more absent from Substack too and I miss it when I’m not here, but there’s always so many things going on at once lately.
Thank YOU. This poem made me smile this morning. And that picture, I can see exactly why you’ve shared it before. Beautiful. Also, I know that facial expression that happens when we forget for a minute to pretend for our children that the world is safe. I keep having it too. Going quiet on car rides. Trying not to cry making breakfast. Only to say, I’m with you. And appreciate you being with me too ❤️
I’m thankful to link arms with you across the world, Nelly 💛.
Tenderly and beautifully expressed. With you in rage, Margaret.
Thank you so much, Caroline 💛. I’m glad we can stand together.
And they say you can’t go home. Beautiful poem.
Thank you, Kathleen. It’s a different-shaped home when they’re adults, but I’m so glad we can offer it.
I echo Nelly--thank you for poem today, which is actually when I'm reading it. It warmed my heart.
Thank you, LeeAnn 💛. I’m so glad.
I decided not to sugar coat any aspect of the modern civilization around us as we raised our boys. We felt compelled both to give them a safe and happy childhood but also tried to make them aware of the misery, the inequality and unfairness of it all, especially if they inquired about it.
Yes to this, Weston. I came around to this thinking later for my older kids, but thankfully it’s not too late to be more honest with them.
I was raised the way I describe above but Laurie had a rare, lovely all girl childhood from all aspects and so we disagreed on the upbringing of the boys, which caused the worst moments and a great threat to our marriage. After counseling we agreed that I would father the boys unimpeded and she would mother them also unimpeded. The sons, now 32 and 34, still talk about my harshness and the consequences for their actions. And they recalled Laurie’s sweetness, kindness and forgiveness and oddly enough, they look back at all of it with equal humor and warmth.
I once made them scrub the basement floor with very small brushes for behaving like thoughtless morons and just this past Christmas were remembering asking for bigger brushes and I said bullies don’t get bigger brushes and they howled with laughter recalling that and I didn’t remember a bit of it.
Just thought you might enjoy that. Wes
“Bullies don’t get bigger brushes” is hilarious! I’m so glad they look back with fondness on both kinds of parenting. My adult kids are still so young, but even they have memories of things I said that make me cringe, which they (sometimes) laugh about.
"It is an endless story, all of this and I will hate to leave it." My grandma Silvia said this in her 90's during an illness. She lived to be 99.
That is beautiful 💛.
Não sei se eu já disse várias vezes, mas eu adoro as artes dos seus filhos, fico muito impressionada!
Especialmente da sua filha mais velha.
E, claro, eu também sofro com o avanço do fascismo no Brasil e no mundo.
Muito obrigada, Tereza. Amo muito a arte deles!
Lamento muito que você também esteja presenciando os efeitos do fascismo no Brasil. É tão difícil de suportar.
Love the art!!!! And I love your poetry and heart!
It’s the cutest! And thank you, Mom 💛.
Good poem, Margaret Ann! I like the sights, sounds, the sense of it.
Thank you, Peter. I was definitely having fun imagining a bird flying back with a bunch of duct-taped boxes :).
You’re welcome.
Lovely, controlled verse.
Thank you, Thomas! I sensed this one could be longer, but it seemed to want to stay small.
I know what you mean. I sensed there’s perhaps more here seeking to come out. But that’s part of its charm! (Lovely to hear from you btw. Apologies if I’ve been a bit quiet recently- I’ve been a bit distracted from Substack - but I’m slowly finding my way back into it!).
As my husband always says to me, “No sorries!” I’ve been a little more absent from Substack too and I miss it when I’m not here, but there’s always so many things going on at once lately.