Wildflower Writes

What does the ideal mom look like? Is it June Cleaver, wearing pearls while she vacuums and having dinner ready when dad walks in the door? Is it Lucy Ricardo, devoted mother still looking for her next big break on stage or screen, or at least a good adventure? Is it Roseanne Connor, keeping her kids in line with sharp remarks and always speaking her mind? Is it Abby O’Neil, the vegan, homeschooling, all-natural mom from Dharma & Greg who walks around in overalls and burns incense? Is it Reba Hart, a single working mom dealing with her teenage daughter’s pregnancy and her ex-husband’s new wife? Every mom has to decide for herself what motherhood is going to look like. For most people, no one is going to be harder on mom than she is on herself. As times change, society’s expectations of the role of mother change and evolve with them. I don’t know if there is any other time in history that has so many potential expectations of motherhood. Moms are supposed to be totally devoted t...

Is there anything more American than baseball? As I sit behind center field, awaiting the start of opening day for the 51st year of Osolo Little League, I’m taken back to some of the happiest moments of my childhood. My dad coached softball before any of his kids were old enough to play. In fact, both my sisters were named after young ladies he coached. We grew up entertaining ourselves by digging in the dirt, running the bases before games, and climbing the bleachers. When I was six, I was finally allowed to play T-ball. We played in jeans then. Even though I was probably just as bored as the other players, I wasn’t a grass picker or a butterfly chaser. I took the game seriously. I put my hands on my knees in a ready stance, and then ran all over the field when someone hit the ball. When it was my turn to bat, I hit the ball and ran as fast as I could. League designations were based on age and not ability then. I played T-ball for three years, and didn’t see a softball until I was nin...

As a child, I remember fighting with my siblings to get my fair share. In those times, one of my father’s favorite sayings was “It’s not all about you.” While often said with force and intended to end the argument, the underlying message remains. Life is not about self or what you want or what makes you happy. Life is infinitely richer than the narrow framework of self. It involves interacting with and caring for other people. At the early stages of a child’s life, the parents make a choice to pander to every felt need of that child, or at some point communicate to him that parents are people too. When a toddler is told “no” he begins to realize he is not the center of the universe and is not entitled to have all his desires met. He learns some actions are unsafe and others are not kind. Compassion is also taught in parental response to their children in times of pain, sadness, or fear. An attentive parent learns to distinguish the types of cries. A child needs to know that her parent...