This year when my children brought home their school pictures, I cringed. These kids can leave home looking cherubic, but the minute they pose for that school photographer they are transposed into unrecognizable beings. My middle daughter brought home pictures bearing her name and room number that couldn't have been my offspring. Nor a distant relative. I had worked for hours on this child. Her hair was parted in the middle and drawn into a cute little ponytail over each ear. Even though she is at an awkward age, she looked adorable when she went out that door. Her missing front teeth only added to her charm. The kid in the picture has her mouth open wide displaying ugly dark gaps. Her one visible ponytail is lopsided, her part is uneven, and her bangs look like they were cut with pinking shears. I know this isn't my child because I always give my children a good haircut before they have their pictures taken. The only thing vaguely familiar is the sweater the child has on. My dau…
From an essay by Gladys Taber
Family Circle - September 1982
I sat in the sun the other day while the dogs dug up the lawn and thought about work. I wasn’t working. I was just thinking about it. I have found that when I cannot possibly accomplish everything I am supposed to and feel an unbearable pressure---as all homemakers must---if I just stop, life goes better.
I get a good book, make some spiced tea and sit down on my own corner of the sofa or in my favorite lawn chair. I let life settle in around me, and that is the only way I can express it. After 20 minutes or half an hour, I go back to the mechanics of living. AND at days end I am just as far along as if I had not stopped to think.
Another of her thoughts: time for thinking is a gift one can give only to one’s self.
Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have over the years. When I've had it with my life some days - I have only to sit down with a glass of sweet tea and think of this essay an…
I never wanted to be like my mother. Growing up, I thought she was strict, old fashioned, regimented, too old to really know what was going on in my life and certainly too old to know what was going on in the world. The very last thing I wanted to be was --- like my mother.
Today, as I started my day, I realized as I went about my routine I am exactly "like my mother."
Each day, first thing I do is have a cup of coffee and then breakfast. I'm not a big breakfast person and neither was she. Next, I make my bed, straighten each room in the house, get dressed and decide what I'll do with my time that day.
Since I don't work anymore I have the freedom to choose. It's a lovely freedom and one I never take for granted.
My mother did those exact same things every day of her life. Now, I do them too. In order. Very structured. Very orderly.
Most days, R and I have coffee and watch Good Morning America. Mother always checked out the news.