I've been enjoying the Women's History Month coverage on BlogHer. Maria handled the list of formidable women in politics, while Sarah talked about the greatest female athletes. While they were at it, Leslie covered education, and KPerfetto wrote about the women in music who are - and should be - in the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame.
(If I missed anyone, apologies - half the month hanging out in Vietnam will cause a girl to lose track of her posts.)
Anyway, yes, true, true, women rule in many quarters, all of them arguably bloggable. But when it comes to any woman's history, it really doesn't get off the dime without a woman to (as she may or may not frequently remind you) bring you into this world. No matter how the relationship turns out, we all begin at - and move on from - that beginning
You've heard about Mommy Bloggers, right? Just a little bit? For my last-day contribution here at March's power-woman central, I thought I'd flip that script just a bit and look for some women who are writing about their moms. DaughterBloggers, if you will, with a little bit of gender-bending thrown in for good measure.
The first question is, do you? Write about your mom, that is. A quick scan of my blog shows that I don't, not a whole lot, anyway. I do take a lot of pictures of my mother and those inevitably end up on Flickr, in spite of her concern that "all those people on the internet can see me." And it's not just me, either. There are currently 1,782,529 photos tagged with "mom" on the site.
I don't know why mom stories don't end up on the blog so much. It's not like they're not often quite humorous or even poignant. Maybe I'm just self-involved or too obsessed with writing about caucuses, who knows. When I do mention her, it's often in relating our conversations, which are often entertaining in a "you maybe had to be there" kind of way. I enjoyed a recent chat we had about her thinly veiled attempts at sending me out there into the horrifying singles scene in my town.
Me: Um, did you pretend to be me while you were out last night?
Me: Are you sure? Because some lady sent me an e-mail - at WORK - telling me how great it was to meet me and sending me a detailed list of singles events in the area.
Mom: Oh, yes. I met her in the bathroom at PGA Tour.
Me: And you gave her my e-mail address why? And pretended to be me why?
Mom: I did NOT pretend to be you. I just TOLD her about you.
Me: Oh wow. Again, why?
Mom: I don't know. She was nice.
Me: And because I so love group activities like apple picking and paintball with people I don't know?
Mom: Well, haha, just delete it. But you never know, it could be fun.
Me: Mom, I've attended two specifically "singles" events when coerced. One was populated by Catholic Star Trek fans, and at the other, my two hot prospects were the George Costanza guy and the old man dressed like a railroad conductor. Pass.
(Please note, if such
events have worked for you or your partner is a railroad conductor,
this is not a hateful missive. It is simply my view and does not
reflect those of the management, including any who may blame the
Here's another favorite recent conversation.
Mom: I just miss it.
Me: Like Faith Evans misses Biggie.
Me: Do you know who that is?
stuff. The thing is, that as deep and as profound as the relationship
can be and inherently is, humor is a big part of it, and conversation
even bigger, so that's usually what ends up here. Plus I love the use
of dialogue to really crystallize moments, and voila.
I loved this post at the Life and Times of Organic Mama about gifts from her mother.
I don’t know if it’s because she lives far way or because she loves how easily point and click sends things wending their way from Amazon’s vast stores to my driveway, but this has lately become a much more obvious trend, certainly during the six months when my father’s precarious health prevented their crossing the US border. By far, the largest components of this kind of giving from my 70 year-old mother are books; if she just read it and liked it, she’ll more often than not buy a copy for my sisters and me. I don’t mind that she does this; it’s endearing, but the best part is that she’ll usually ASK before typing in her credit card numbers. And she’ll listen if what she decides will make my life that much better isn’t something I would use.
Will I do this when my kids are older?
PS: While I speak here of the material gifts, I should also credit my mother with my love of words, science fiction, fantasy, interesting patterns in textiles (like socks and scarves), Dutch and other European chocolate, the knowledge of how not murder defenseless growing things in pots, snarkiness in general, how to get straight to the point, and how to be a reasonably good person. And MANY other things.
But she also buys me jackets.
Because, you know, they may come in handy.
Bethany Actually is sorry her mom's leaving after a month-long visit. Nice photos go with this post.
In a few minutes, we’re leaving to take my mom to the airport in D.C. She’s been here visiting for a month, which would be about three and a half weeks too long for many people to have their mom stay. But not for us! My mom is one of those people who is very easy to be around. We love having her here....When my mom is here visiting, Troy and I try go out on a date at least once a week. Sometimes we go out more often than that, when Annalie asks hopefully, “Mama, are you and Daddy going on a date tonight, so I can have a date with Gramaw? Please?"
Eden Kennedy is back in Colorado visiting and helping to take care of her mother. Her posts about her family's experience - specifically her mother's decilne and need for more care after the death of her husband - are just one of the reasons why this is one of the blogs I've checked in on daily since I knew what a blog was. The photography and Eden's words on the matter are remarkably straightforward and would be helpful for anyone who has walked the walk of adult child caregiving plus adjustment to a parent's aging.
Anyway, I'm out in suburban Denver because my brother, Chris, who lives with my mom and does a large part of her care, sneezed and threw out his back last week -- I can't laugh, I did the same thing once picking up a sock -- so my other brother, Tim, arranged to put Mom in a respite care facility for several days. After some comical delays that involved being pinned between two passive-aggressive frat boys, I arrived late Saturday night, and Sunday I drove over to the old folks' home with Chris to sign Mom out and oversee her transfer into an ambulance for the ride back home.
The ambulance-transfer people were awesome, just real calm and no problem! about everything. It takes a kind of decency I barely knew existed outside of Zen monasteries to deal with cranky, scared, dwindling old people every day. For the record, my mother is not often cranky or scared, she's Just Old, what's known in the gerontology business as being in a "functional decline."
Christy just started a blog in February about meeting her birth mother, and has already been contacted by her. Her Easter post talked about their plans to meet.
I am sorry I’ve not updated this blog in while. It’s been busy at work and I’ve been in another world to be honest. All is well though.
Donna and I are becoming great friends! It’s been such a trip getting to know her and not to mention - pure joy. How lovely and beautiful to have her in my life.
Donna and I will be meeting next month. We have decided to meet at the beach and just zone out for a few days. It will be so fun to relax and just get to know each other. In May she will be coming here for my birthday and to meet my family.
I feel a little guilty this Easter about not praising God and honoring Lent. My life lately has been all about me and adjusting to knowing Donna. I usually try to give up something. Pray. Reflect. However, lately I’ve just been in a such a good place I have forgotten to be a good Catholic girl. God has given me such an awesome present. I am so thankful.
I wonder if you got to see him and hold him before you gave him away.
It makes me sad thinking that you might not have.
I've held him in my arms, listened to his breathing and comforted him during bad dreams...he hasn't been alone.
I don't know if you're alive, don't know if you have other children, other sons but if you are...I hope that these words reach you somehow.
I want you to know that your son grew up to be a wonderful man. If you're wondering...he is polite, a gentleman, a kind caring guy. Oh don't get me wrong...he's not perfect, far from it at times but I love him and he makes me very happy.
I know that I might not have him today if you had made a different decision that day. I'm not sure if our paths would ever have crossed although I'd like to think they would have, that we're soul mates meant to be together.
I spoke to my adoptive mother today, from Kibbutz Degania. She’s quite different from me, personality-wise: The epitome of a bleeding heart liberal, she is a firm believer in the power of love to fight terrorists, reiki as the best way to promote physical and spiritual well-being, and similar concepts not frequently espoused in my household. She herself is a numerologist.
New-age shenanigans notwithstanding, she’s very good about giving emotional advice, so during the course of our conversation, I consulted with her on how to address a friend whose boyfriend, I’m fairly certain based on the evidence, intends to break up with her instead of proposing...
Carol O'Dell wrote a book I'd like to read about caregiving, in this case specifically for her adoptive mother, who she writes beautifully about in this post.
Life expands and contracts just like your lungs. Caregiving made my world small in many ways, but it also expanded my thoughts. Caregiving taught me so many things: the resiliency of family, the tenacity of love, how forgiveness is the strongest bond of love, how much more you can endure than you think you can, your ability to juggle, stay on top, reconfigure, mix it up, and fight it out–and how much I want to live and love before I leave this earth.
Another desire is about family–witnessing that part of you goes on, and it’s in part, seeing what I can do, what I’m capable of–it’s creating and recreating in a zillion different ways–biologically, spiritually, artistically, intellectually.
I plan to teach more children how to read and write, hold grandbabies, see the Parthenon and the aurora boralis. I plan to build more schools and hospitals, send a single mother to college–leave a legacy.
Are you half way through? What drives you? What legacy will you leave?
You may think it’s not, but I promise you, it will. You can’t face death and it not transform you.
Liking Lauren's post at Lost In Texas, "My Mom Can Beat Up Your Mom."
Not only does she have a tattoo, but she's also currently tied for number one in her NCAA pool--a pool that actually has a $2000 pot! Unfortunately, she made a fatal mistake, calling the tie break at 116. Now some of you might know that I also severely underestimated the tie break (at 108. I know I know, but last year I grossly overestimated it and well jeeze, I'm bad at math), but at least I don't have money riding on it.
BlogHim Bill wrote on the Blog Sheroes Network about his mom's need for a bone marrow transplant and a recent drive the family participated in in their area.
So hopefully tomorrow will be a glorious day where hundreds of people register and my Mom's perfect match will be found. But even if not, the word is getting out a little more and there will be a few more people on the registry.
There are thousands of people looking for the perfect match so they can receive a bone marrow transplant to live. My Mom is just one of those people, as is Emru Townsend. But there are thousands out there, and your bone marrow may be what they need to live.
So please, wherever you are, join the bone marrow donor registry. You may give someone the gift of life. And pass the word along. Thanks.
Finally, some moms want the world to know about their blogging daughters, and vice versa. Are they writing about each other? Check them out and see.
Kathleen Bell points out her daughter Mercy Bell's blog. I like.
Merideth Dodd is a photographer who wants everyone to check out her mom, Debbie Lincoln's, contemporary Western art blog. Really nice.
So that's the deal about some of the bloggers writing about moms right now. Thoughts? Blogs? Please share.
Still grateful for the potty-training (I hear it's kind of a big deal...) Laurie White spares her mother by not blogging about most embarrassing moments at LaurieWrites.