It's so nice that Bubba's been feeling like reading, so Dahey and I take him regularly to RehabLand's public library (which is pretty darned good).
Here's a couple of things on the burner right now.
1. Child, please by Ylanda Gault Caveness. This author works the parenting sites and has lots of interesting perspectives as the mother of three kids.
While my childhood deviated on many planes from hers, due to ethnicity, etc., there were more than a few common sayings mentioned in the book that I heard in our house among my parents.
I chuckled to myself more than a few times reading this book, and frankly, there are some hilarious moments that will make you laugh out loud. (and even disturb your neighbors sitting nearby).
Little book with a whole lot of parenting wisdom. I highly recommend it.
2. Shrinks: The untold story of psychiatry by Jeffery Lieberman I just started this one, and the intro is just right. It sets you up in a patient story, and draws you in. The stress, anxiety and the ambivalence of the general public to consider the benefits of a medical psychiatric workup.
I can't wait to continue down the road of this story penned by the former president of the American Psychiatric Association.
Stay tuned!
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Thursday, September 26, 2013
My mother really was a saint
Momma had coal black hair and eyes just as dark against her Celtic skin. Yes, she looked like those black Irish ancestors sans the blue eyes that Granny had.
She suffered lots of stress in her life: getting married "late" (at 25), not having kids right away, and when she had them, she nearly died.
Momma was stubborn, though. (Dad loved her for that.) After nearly dying and losing her first baby, she kept going until the rest of us were born. She finally was where she wanted to be: a mother of four children, just like all of her siblings (except for her old maid sister Maisie). Granny was pleased with all 24 grand kids. Momma was her baby, and she finally had her own brood of kids. Gramps and Granny absolutely loved being overrun by little (and big) kids at their house.
But, the happiness was short lived. In the prime of her life, Momma found out she had a terminal disease, something she would not get now, but then, they didn't know how to prevent it.
Momma died in her 40s. We were very sad. One of Momma's friends ran a local newspaper and published a long, sweet unofficial obituary for her, which I still have here somewhere. I couldn't bear to read it more than once, so I put it away.
However, I cannot imagine being a child who would have to write this obituary. We had much sadness in our home, but we were loved so much, and so rich in comparison.
I mourn not for the dead lady, but for her children.
She suffered lots of stress in her life: getting married "late" (at 25), not having kids right away, and when she had them, she nearly died.
Momma was stubborn, though. (Dad loved her for that.) After nearly dying and losing her first baby, she kept going until the rest of us were born. She finally was where she wanted to be: a mother of four children, just like all of her siblings (except for her old maid sister Maisie). Granny was pleased with all 24 grand kids. Momma was her baby, and she finally had her own brood of kids. Gramps and Granny absolutely loved being overrun by little (and big) kids at their house.
But, the happiness was short lived. In the prime of her life, Momma found out she had a terminal disease, something she would not get now, but then, they didn't know how to prevent it.
Momma died in her 40s. We were very sad. One of Momma's friends ran a local newspaper and published a long, sweet unofficial obituary for her, which I still have here somewhere. I couldn't bear to read it more than once, so I put it away.
However, I cannot imagine being a child who would have to write this obituary. We had much sadness in our home, but we were loved so much, and so rich in comparison.
I mourn not for the dead lady, but for her children.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
My kind of gal
Yes, I'll admit it. I really enjoy reading some obituaries. I particularly liked reading this one in the New York Times recently about a children's author.
Her mother told her to never get a tattoo or she'd regret it. She got one anyway, and it was a great story.
Makes me think about the patient who had a four leaf clover on his hip. He got it just because he always wanted to have one...
Her mother told her to never get a tattoo or she'd regret it. She got one anyway, and it was a great story.
Makes me think about the patient who had a four leaf clover on his hip. He got it just because he always wanted to have one...
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