The Boy Moms at my sons’ grade school had a not-so-secret club. We were the ones who arrived early every afternoon, scanning the yard for forgotten lunch bags and hoodies. As kids spilled out the doors, the Boy Moms yelled for their boys, secured belongings, checked fists and pockets for teachers’ notes, then doled out snacks. Boy Moms Club would be in session, the Moms swapping advice and laughs while doling out bandages and warnings. Continue reading “Boy Moms Club”
Mothering
My Mother’s Day expectations have changed drastically over the years. In the early years, apart from handmade heart-melts from the boys, the pressure was all on my husband.
After we separated, the boys had to be trained to step up. Some years I was pleasantly surprised by breakfast in bed; other years I had to remind them, demanding ANY small token, like a cup of tea or doing dishes without dramatics. Continue reading “Mothering”