The Way She Mothered Me
Brittany Bergman
My mom always smelled faintly of Rapture perfume and Suave hairspray. When I close my eyes and try to conjure what it felt like
My mom always smelled faintly of Rapture perfume and Suave hairspray. When I close my eyes and try to conjure what it felt like
Reality slaps me in the face on occasion. OK, daily. The reality of my situation is that a genetic disease took up residency in
Imagine staring down inside your body with God eyes. You could perceive every shift of blood and thought, each movement of bone and muscle.
Motherhood is a string of hope. I clip up my whispered longings as I breeze along the day with my tiny people in tow.
May 2017 Blog – Change Submission Deadline: Due Date: April 28 (600-900 word count) Change is inevitable; regardless if we welcome it with open arms
MOPS 2017-2018 Theme: Free Indeed Every year MOPS comes up with a rallying cry – a concept that will guide our entire tribe
“Did you fall?” she asks me pointing to the wounds on my fingers. She doesn’t even look up, while she throws the dices in
Following the birth of my first child, I felt as if I had walked through a veil; one that separated me from my previous
Lately the landscape of my mothering has been much less manicured and mostly messy. My life is a constant ebb and flow of laundry-dinner-dishes
“Eight, nine, ten … ready or not here I come!” Giggles unmistakably coming from behind the curtains. Doing my best to play along, I