“Do not ride your bicycle around the corner,” the mother had told the daughter when she was seven.
“Why not!” protested the girl.
“Because then I cannot see you and you will fall down and cry and I will not hear you.”
“How do you know I’ll fall?” whined the girl.
“It is in a book, The Twenty-Six Malignant Gates, all the bad things that can happen to you outside the protection of this house.”
“I don’t believe you. Let me see the book.”
“It is written in Chinese. You cannot understand it. That is why you must listen to me.”
“What are they, then?” the girl demanded. “Tell me the twenty-six bad things.”
But the mother sat knitting in silence.
“What twenty-six!” shouted the girl.
The mother still did not answer her.
“You can’t tell me anything because you don’t know! You don’t know anything!” And the girl ran outside, jumped on her bicycle, and in her hurry to get away, she fell before she even reached the corner.
Notes from the Golden Orange
EppsNet Archive: Mothers
We rented Mother from Netflix. As I explained to my family before screening it, the movie’s about a crazy Asian woman and her devotion to her mentally challenged son.
“You can see why it resonated with me,” I said. “It’s like someone made a movie about our lives!”
“You are not a nice person,” my wife said. “Our boy is not crazy.”
“No, you’re crazy,” the boy corrected her. “I’m mentally challenged.”
That said, I enjoyed the movie, although it contains a lot of profanity, which I don’t like.
[Editor's Note: Obviously I disagree with this egregious opinion, but I'm committed to hosting a wide range of viewpoints. -- PE]
You have mothers, you have wives who are also mothers, you have daughters who are also mothers . . . attention has to be divided and no one is satisfied with her share of the pie. As a son, husband and/or father, you can’t win, it’s just a question of how badly you’re going to lose.
Women are bitching on the run-up to Mothers Day, they’re bitching on Mothers Day, and they’re laying down ground rules regarding what they will and will not put up with on next year’s Mothers Day.
It’s a big foofaraw and nobody’s happy.
Conversely, on Fathers Day, everyone’s as happy as a lark, despite the fact that Fathers Day is commemorated, in my family at least, by absolutely nothing.
Hi Mom! It’s me, Lightning! Happy Mothers Day!
Sometimes I wonder if you’re still alive. I know you could be, even though I’m almost 70 years old myself.
Here’s a recent picture of me . . .
I’m taking a lot of naps now that I’m older. Although come to think of it, I took a lot of naps when I was younger too!
I can’t move my legs very well now — my back legs, mostly. They don’t hurt, but I can’t feel them very much and I can’t tell where they are. It’s funny that I used to be the fastest pug and now I’m the slowest.
I remember you told me that dogs teach people about two things:
- Unconditional love, and
- Nothing lasts forever. Everything ends so don’t take anything for granted, even for one day.
If you don’t hear from me next Mothers Day, it’s not because I forgot. If I go to heaven first, I’ll wait for you and we’ll all be together again!
Best-educated moms are also more likely to ‘opt out,’ research finds
Opt out of what?
It turns out “opt out” means opt out of the workforce. How is a mom staying home and raising her kids considered “opting out”?
Mom #1: Moms are right 99 percent of the time.
Mom #2: Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time.
My favorite poem of the week — again from Modern & Contemporary American Poetry – was “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” by Bernadette Mayer, especially the final image of the stressed-out new mother reading The Wild Boy of Aveyron, about a feral child raised by wolves.
[See You in Hell is a feature by our guest blogger, Satan -- PE]
Yahoo confirmed Monday that CEO Marissa Mayer gave birth to a boy on Sunday night, only about three months after taking the helm at the struggling company.
The 37-year-old Mayer will work from home and continues to lead the company and “is involved in all critical decisions [sic] making,” a Yahoo spokeswoman told Reuters on Monday.
“She will be working remotely and is planning to return to the office as soon as possible (likely in 1-2 weeks),” Yahoo said in an emailed comment to the news agency.
I applaud young Marissa Mayer for this courageous decision!
She is a role model for all the little girls out there who want to grow up and neglect their children.
Working moms, my precious darlings –
Don’t let anyone tell you that a woman is a better mom if she’s actually home with her kids.
Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t have it all. You can have it all. Everyone else is doing it. Don’t be left out!
Kids don’t need a lot of attention. They basically raise themselves!
We have a double standard in our society: If you are poor and you abandon your kids you are a bad parent. But if you are rich and you abandon them to run a company, you are profiled in Fortune magazine.
God bless America! Your children are being raised by strangers and nobody cares.
See you all in Hell!
“My son shot 64% last night?! THAT IS A GRADE OF D! I AM ASHAMED!” — Jeremy Lin‘s mom
Notes From a Dragon Mom: The truth about our children, about ourselves: none of it is forever.
She lost my Mother of the Year vote when I found out she put the girl in front of the train in the first place.
In one study of 50 Western American mothers and 48 Chinese immigrant mothers, almost 70% of the Western mothers said either that “stressing academic success is not good for children” or that “parents need to foster the idea that learning is fun.” By contrast, roughly 0% of the Chinese mothers felt the same way. Instead, the vast majority of the Chinese mothers said that they believe their children can be “the best” students, that “academic achievement reflects successful parenting,” and that if children did not excel at school then there was “a problem” and parents “were not doing their job.” Other studies indicate that compared to Western parents, Chinese parents spend approximately 10 times as long every day drilling academic activities with their children. By contrast, Western kids are more likely to participate in sports teams.
“My son just finished college last year. He wants to write but he’s selling typewriters until he gets started,” his mother said . . . the woman across the aisle said in a loud voice, “Well that’s nice. Selling typewriters is close to writing. He can go right from one to the other.”
Somewhere in America, a boy — a high school senior, college bound — says to his mom, “You don’t need to renew my magazine subscriptions because I won’t be living here anymore.”
His mom, who already knows this but is momentarily stunned by the clarity of it, starts to say, “When you have a three-day weekend, come and visit us” but can’t get through it without crying . . .
The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president. You realize that you control your own destiny.
The tournament is off to a bad start and the boys haven’t even taken the rink yet.
One boy showed up yesterday with a 103 fever. I’m hearing this morning that his parents took him to urgent care. Nobody knows right now if he’s going to be able to play.
Hang on, it gets worse.
I don’t know who knows it yet but another boy went home late last night. His mom, who wasn’t at the tournament, died in her sleep. She wasn’t the healthiest person but she was about the same age as I am and wasn’t expected to die.
I heard about it this morning from one of the other dads, who’s a friend of their family. He heard about it last night when the boy’s dad woke him up with a phone call.
My son doesn’t know about it yet. He’s still asleep.
I’m trying to think if any of his friends have lost a parent before. I can’t think of anyone.
I wish my wife was here. She’s 10 times better than me at dealing with people and situations. She’d do and say the right things without even having to think about it.
What a shock. Rest in peace.