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Child-raising
Family structure in contemporary times
Child-raising
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“… con su carita de rosas, es mi niña bonita, cada día mas preciosa… es mi niña bonita, cuanto la llego a querer.” My mom’s delicate, excited voice mixed with the sweet, youthful voice of my smallest baby, five year-old Gloria. Seeing the woman who raised me play and spend time with my children, especially with the one that bore the family name, warmed my heart. This life was the one I always dreamt about. To be actually living it is thrilling.
“Dinner’s ready! Who’s hungry?” My husband’s raspy, soft voice spread throughout the house. The thumping sound of people’s footsteps grew louder. One head, two heads, three heads; where’s my other child? Then, in an answer, my eldest child, 12 year-old Paloma, strolled in with my sister’s hand tucked in hers. Apparently, girl-talk was going on. What a wonder to think that my sister, my other half, the one that listened to my secrets and let me use her clothes, was now being a second mother to my kids. As we were saying Grace before our Thanksgiving dinner, I looked around and thanked God for the family I had with me: my mom, my husband and my children, and my sister, her husband and her two children. Between bites and laughter, we enjoyed dinner and a movie together. “See you next Sunday, sis!” my sister said as she kissed me goodbye. That was our tradition: having a family dinner every Sunday. I couldn’t enjoy it more.
The next day, the kids urged my husband and me to start decorating for Christmas. Christmas music filled the air as we strung the lights and put up an inflatable snowman. The house looked sparkling and picturesque, as if it should be placed in my great-aunt’s beloved Christmas village. Our small house had Spanish architecture that could be seen in the ornate iron bars on...
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...f my schooling. As I drove to work after dropping them off, I couldn’t wait to see their smiling faces again. Now, I was off to my job, working at The Smithsonian as a curator to touch, date and preserve precious historical objects and documents.
That night, after a long day of work, including a shift at the soup kitchen, I contemplated on my life. There was point where I didn’t even think I would graduate high school. In that moment, I saw no purpose for my existence, nothing to look forward to. All I wished for was happiness and love. Graduating high school in 2014 proved me wrong but never, in my wildest dreams, did I see myself having everything I ever wanted: a loving family, a job that I enjoyed and a sense of joy and stability. Having a very sweet, protective German shepherd was just the icing on the cake that was my dreams. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
...in labout, that day our little Serenity was born. You would think being a father, living with the girl I loved and being out of the hospital for over a year now I'd be happy, but I wasn't.
En el relato por Benedetti "El otro yo,” encontramos un hombre que es muy, como Benedetti lo describe, "un muchacho corriente” (75). Benedetti describe lo que lleva: "los pantalones sí le formaban rodilleras” (75). Esto puede crear una imagen de alguien que conocido, o como forastero con quien te encuentras en la calle. Entonces, tenemos aquí la capacidad de mirar a través de su vida, cuando Benedetti nos decir que el hombre corriente "leía historietas, hacía ruido cuando comía, se metía los dedos en la nariz, y roncaba en la siesta..." (75). Cada una de estas acciones forman unas imágenes de un hombre muy normal, con una vida muy normal sin incidentes. Así lo afirma el escritor Mario Benedetti en "El Otro Yo", diciéndonos que el hombre ...
What about other countries though? Is the Christmas season all about giving and receiving gifts? Are children in Spain rewarded by Santa with gifts and toys on Christmas Eve? In this essay we will look at what Christmas season means in Spain, and what traditions are prevalent in their culture. We will also look at the Christmas related traditions of Americans, and how those compare and contrast to those in Spain.
Rodriguez highlights comfortable, soothing, and intimate sounds of his family language by saying, “Spanish seemed to me the language of home. It became the language of joyful return. A family member would say something to me and I would feel myself specially recognized. My parents would say something to me and I would feel embraced by the sounds of their words. Those sounds said: I am speaking with ease in Spanish. I am addressing you in words I never use with los gringos. I recognize you as someone special, close, like no one outside. You belong with us. In the family”. The private language is like an intimate secret code among the family. Despite the struggle with their family languages, the author understands that the private language being spoken has been a large part of their lives and has helped shaped their view of the
While this invitation produced anxiety for every person that attended this meal, the toll that it took on my nephew was rather difficult to watch. His father chose to attend the day before Thanksgiving; but a half-hour before the scheduled 2 p.m. time for dinner, he let his son know that his girlfriend and her children had decided to come as well. While the adults scrambled to add additional seating, my nephew excitedly stood outside on the porch anticipating his guests’ arrival. An hour later, this little boy dejectedly wondered whether his father had changed his mind. When his guests finally arrived, we all ate an awkward, cold dinner, and my ex-brother-in-law whisked them all (including my nephew) away to his family’s Thanksgiving meal, which meant that my disappointed nephew never got to share the chocolate pie that he had helped make.
The two essays discussed in this paper are ‘My Name’ and ‘Shame’. Sandra Cisneros in ‘My Name’ presents a very strong point of view of how her name has different meaning and it gives her memories of her grandmother with who she shares her name and also regrets the fact that it is somehow related to the weakness she and her grandmother used to feel when they were supposed to be behaving in a certain manner because they were Mexican and were not given power and freedom. There name was a sort of reminder of the fact that they have to be soft and polite and quite because none of the meaning of the name represents something which is powerful and expressive and strong. Esperanza in English means hope while in Spanish it meant sadness and waiting and that inflicted nations of the society towards women.
My four children, Shirley, April, Arthur JR and Danielle, who are the loves of my life.
In Keillor’s “A Wobegon Holiday Dinner,” he describes both the present day realities of family Thanksgiving as well as the past history of his family’s Thanksgiving. Each circumstance, in the present day holiday, is unthinkably different from the next, whereas...
The well known holiday of Christmas today is far from what it was in it’s former being. Many aspects led to the change in Christmas, however Charles Dickens, a Victorian era author was arguably the most influential in the change. There was a time when christmas was not much more important than your average holiday. Without the work of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Regency Christmas would not have changed to be the way it is today. As we examine the Regency Christmas, the Christmas events in A Christmas Carol, new Christmas ideas, and today’s new christmas we will form the true Christmas.
Once they were back home, they sat at the dining table and started to eat the food. After 30 minutes her Aunt called and asked her to bring over some food. When she walked over to her Aunt’s place the air was colder, but still fresh and crispy. Once she was inside her Aunt’s place she sat down at the kitchen table and said hello to her cousins and Aunt. After grabbing a glass of water from her Aunt’s refrigerator her Aunt asked her to take care of her cousins while they went out to pick up food. She gladly said yes, even though she didn’t want to, but she knew she couldn’t complain and say no. After 10 minutes her Aunt and Uncle left to pick up the food from Boston Market and she was left alone with her cousins. When her Aunt and Uncle came back they started to cook and the house was filled with the smell of turkey, ham, pumpkin and apple pie and mash potatoes with gravy. At 4:00 pm her family came over to her Aunt's place and said hello and sat down at the dining table and waited for the food to be finished cooking. Once the food was ready they all sat down and said thank you to her Aunt and Uncle for cooking the food and talked with each other while they all ate the creamy warm mash potatoes with gravy and the warm and juicy ham and turkey. After everyone finished the food they all enjoyed the sweet and creamy pumpkin and apple pie. After finishing the dinner, everyone said goodbye
I now knew what I was meant to do with my life. I was meant to teach. I was meant to be there for those kids like Trey who don’t have anyone else. They need some person in their life to be their protector and someone to look out for them. I can teach them more than just their ABC’s. Trey didn’t have someone at home to care for him so it made it really hard for him to learn. If I can meet the basic need of caring for the kids as a teacher, then it will be so much easier for them to learn. One five year-old little boy changed my life and shaped my future. It wasn’t a big extreme moment, but just something small that opened my eyes. Isn’t it crazy that something so small as a little boy could make me realize what I was meant to do? I will never forget Trey and the impact he made on my
I can almost remember that day like it was yesterday, I awoke like on any other school day. It was a gorgeous May morning, the rays of sun flittered through my miniblinds blinding me as if I hadn’t seen light in days. I sluggishly dragged my limp body out of my warm bed, retiring to the bathroom to perform my normal morning rituals shower, shave, brush my teeth, get dressed, do my hair, and all the other regulars. As I looked at myself while combing my hair, it hit me like a speeding express train, I was about to graduate. I couldn’t help but smile, but at the same time I felt like a part of me was drifting away. A tear came to my eye as I realized what was about to happen to me.
Emma, Marissa and I are in charge of the making the lefse. This has been our job ever since we were little girls, becoming experts through all our years of experience. My grandma makes the most amazing food and always has enough to feed us for a week. After we stuff ourselves full of delicious, lasagna, salads, and hot dishes all made with love and while the adults lean back comfortably in their chairs, us kids go put on our pajamas and troop downstairs to open our gifts. The most memorable gift would be the ring my grandma gave me that used to be my great-grandmothers who died a couple days after my grandma turned fifteen. My great-grandma loved to travel and had a great passion for fashion, so this circle of metal with a little diamond in the middle and a floral pattern surrounding it, had been bought in California and has been in the family since. “Bang, bang, bang!” A huge pounding comes from the front door. Dogs bark, adults grin, and we race to open the creaky door. Santa Claus, eyes twinkling, dressed in red with coal-black boots, and swinging a sack over his right shoulder, steps inside. He plops down heavily; ringing merry bells and passes them off to David, my brother, telling him seriously to keep ringing them so Rudolf won’t fly away without him. With wide eyes, little David shakes the bells with such rigor that if Rudolf was in the North Pole he would be able to hear them. We each take a turn perching on his knee, hesitant at first but then opening up and telling him our age and that, “yes we have been really, really, really good this year.” As Santa’s beard tickles our chin as we lean in close for a picture and his big belly shakes as he laughs at the same time as you start to giggle. Then he opens his sack and pulls out gifts wrapped in colorful paper for each of us. With a few cookies for the road, crumbs in his beard and a
“The children have been a wonderful gift to me, and I’m thankful to have once again seen our world through their eyes. They restore my faith in the family’s future” (Anderson, 176). Her children were her world; everything she did was for them. She tried her best to be the perfect mother.
Graduation: the last day that I would unwillingly set foot on the fields of Horizon High School. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, and tried so hard to keep my feet moving one after the other in order to maintain my perfect stature. After the two hour wait of opening speeches, class songs, and the calling off of the five hundred plus names that were in front of me, it was finally my turn. As my row stood up and we walked towards the stage it had set in at last, this is it, I am done. My high school career ended on that night, but it didn’t close the book that is my life, it only started a new chapter, and with it came a whole slue of uncertainties.