Posted in Holidays, Quotes 2 Inspire

Mothers Day Proclamation 1870

This original Mothers Day Proclamation from 1870 in Boston is particularly poignant for mothers of sons.

Arise then…women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: “Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice
.”
Blood does not wipe out dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace…
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God –
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

by Julia Ward Howe

Posted in Insight

The Gift of Christmas “Presence”

After a maniacal moment of holiday consumerism, I come to my senses with:

The Gift of Christmas “Presence”

(click title above to read piece at my blog, Two Owls Calling)

Posted in Insight, Teens

Flu

Rusinol (visipix.com)

I’ve been horizontal for three days–hit hard with a stomach bug.  This morning, when my 14 year old stops in my room to see if he can call a friend, I ask him to  (please) go downstairs and get me an Advil.  And do you know what he says?!

I can’t right now Mom. I’m doing something else.

He can’t right now, he’s doing something else???  Can you believe he had the gall to say that to the woman who conceived him (with difficulty), carried him (with complication) and birthed him (by emergency caesarean)?

What about the first five years of his life when I nursed him through countless colds, bouts of bronchitis, the occasional pneumonia and the incidence of pleurisy? (Who has even heard of that last one!?)

Not to mention, all the rides to school, to friends, to events…

Of course, I could write a book about just WHY he absolutely HAS to get me an Advil the second I ask–and within moments of my TIRADE on that subject, he did just that–and later today he didn’t blink twice when I made another request.

Is this a teenage thing or a boy thing, I wonder?  I’m guessing it’s largely gender based with a teenage twist.

I remember my sister Michelle telling me about the time her head was in the toilet with morning sickness.  Her daughter placed a wet washcloth on her neck, while her son asked her repeatedly if he could play Nintendo.

I had a similar experience this summer when I sliced my finger on a garden slate. Just as I felt myself beginning to pass out (a first for me), I yelled to my boys to get me a homeopathic for trauma upon which my teenager spilled the bottle on the floor.

Instead of just giving me one, he repeatedly asked what he should do with the ones on the floor.  With an ashen face and the room spinning, I tried to give him a look that said, “Is that relevant right now?” but he just kept on asking.

What is it about the male psyche that can make them oblivious to what is going on inside another?  Probably the same thing that makes my husband look at me suggestively when I have barely eaten in three days.

This is the same guy who encouraged me to “send the baby to the Nursery” after our home birth was transferred to the hospital.

“We need our sleep, that’s what it’s there for…” the traitor said before dozing off, leaving me holding our newborn after 8 hours of labor and a c-section to boot.

To be fair, my husband takes good care of me, bringing me tea and apple sauce and crackers.  Hopefully his tenderness will rub off  on my boys by the time they’ve become husbands and fathers themselves.

(How about you?  Do your sons or daughters take good care of you?)