Tag Archives: mother

Reunion

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Ethan and Evan have been reunited with their mom. They live here in town but I have yet to run into them.

I suspect a judge forced my husband’s sister to return them and fleeing to another city did nothing for her cause.

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New!

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In addition to our new home, we have something else new dwelling among us –a beautiful, bouncing baby boy! His name is Che and he is perfect! He has totally brought light into our dark days. He is the smallest of the sultans in the Queendom of Morocco!  His nickname is the Emperor!  We  just looooove him to pieces!

 

 

The Pancakes

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In honor of my mother’s 48th birthday today, I thought I’d share a story about her.  When I was about 6 years-old and my brother was 4, my mother cooked us a batch of pancakes for breakfast.  Mind you, she was a young  mother and was not very experienced in the kitchen.  To top that off, she was not in a good mood that day so I knew there was no way she would allow us to eat something else.

When she placed the plates in front of us; I immediatedly noticed how weird they looked.  I glanced at my brother and he looked fearfully at the flat, lifeless circular blobs.  I, too was appalled that she expected us to eat those things!

My mother noticed our reluctance and warned us that we better eat every single piece of our pancakes.   For a few minutes she stood guard over us to make sure we’d do just that.  I courageously took a bite hoping for the best.  It was the worst of times.   Even at my young age I  realized she put too much baking soda  in the mix!  Satisfied with my mouthful, she left us to own devices.

My brother sat there with tears in his eyes while I was busy thinking.  We lived in a high rise and was many floors up.  It finally dawned on me that we could throw them out the window if I was clever enough.  I cut my pancakes in fours and did my brother’s next. 

Glancing around furtively for her probing eyes, I made my way to the window.  The coast was clear so I rapidly dumped some of our pancakes out the window.

I told my brother to shuffle the remaining pancakes on his plate to make it appear as if he was eating.  My mother checked on us again and saw the diminishing stacks and smiled.

When she walked away I excused myself from the table with a napkin of carefully concealed pancakes.  My plan was to flush them down the toilet.

Once back at the table I dropped the rest of her culinary science project out the window.  We were saved!

Black Girl Grieves

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At my grandmother’s repast, someone with a camera snapped a picture of me that perfectly captured the face of grief.  Over the years I have worn that visage many times.

Today is the one year anniversary of my mother’s death.

Today marks three months for my husband, too.

I miss them so very much!

My Names

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Nicholas usually calls me Mom.  Sometimes he calls me Mama or Mommy. 

Mom reminds me that he is growing up.

I love it best when he calls me Mommy.  It makes me reminisce about his baby days.  But it is equally sweet when he calls me Mama.  I picture myself as a Mama bear, and he of course, is my little cub. 

He has created nicknames for me–“Mother-of-Pearl” and “Mutter” (mother in German).  Lately he has been calling me “Mother Goose” and “Mama Mia.”

Jazmine calls me “Mymom.”  She oftens hears Nicholas referring to me in this manner.

To my husband I am “Baby” or “Boobie” and sometimes “Moroccan.”

Evan and Ethan know me simply as Morocco.  But on occassion, Evan has called me Mommy, Mom, and/or Stepmama.

Which do you prefer?  Do your children have any pet names for you?