MelStories

DAD'S BROWNIES

A father of some teenage children had the family rule that they could not attend PG-13 or R rated movies. His three teens wanted to see a particular popular movie that was playing at local theaters. It was rated PG-13. The teens interviewed friends and even some members of their family's church to find out what was offensive in the movie. The teens made a list of pros
and cons about the movie to use to convince their dad that they should be allowed to see it. The con's were that it contained ONLY 3 swear words, the ONLY violence was a building exploding (and you see that on TV all the time they said), and you actually did not "see" the couple in the movie having sex - it was just implied sex, off camera. The pros were that it was a popular movie -- a block buster. Everyone was seeing it. If the teens saw the movie then they would not feel left out when their friends discussed it. The movie contained a good story and plot. It had some great adventure and suspense in it. There were some fantastic special effects in this movie. The movie's stars were some of the most talented actors in Hollywood. It probably would be nominated for several awards. Many of the members of their Christian church had even seen the movie and said it wasn't "very bad." Therefore, since there were more pros than cons the teens said they were asking their father to reconsider his position on just this ONE movie and let them have permission to go see it. The father looked at the list and thought for a few minutes. He said he could tell his children had spent some time and thought on this request. He asked if he could have a day to think about it before making his decision. The teens were thrilled thinking; "Now we've got him! Our argument is too good! Dad can't turn us down!" So, they happily agreed to let him have a day to think about their request. The next evening the father called in his three teenagers, who were smiling smugly, into the living room. There on the coffee table he had a plate of brownies. The teens were puzzled. The father told his children he had thought about their request and had decided that if they would eat a brownie then he would let them go to the movie. But just like the movie, the brownies had pros and cons. The pros were that they were made with the finest chocolate and other good ingredients. They had the added special effect of yummy walnuts in them. The brownies were moist and fresh with wonderful chocolate frosting on top. He had made these fantastic brownies using an award-winning recipe. And best of all, the brownies had been made lovingly by the hand of their own father. The brownies only had one con. The father had included a little bit of a special ingredient. The brownies also contained just a little bit of dog poop. But he had mixed the dough well -- they probably would not even be able to taste the dog poop and he had baked it at 350 degrees so any bacteria or germs from the dog poop had probably been destroyed. Therefore, if any of his children could stand to eat the brownies which included just a "little bit of crap" and not be affected by it, then he knew they would also be able to see the movie with "just a little bit of smut" and not be affected. Of course, none of the teens would eat the brownies and the smug smiles had left their faces. Only Dad was smiling smugly as they left the room. Now when his teenagers ask permission to do something he is opposed to the father just asks, "Would you like me to whip up a batch of my special brownies?"

It's called "Tough-Love. Remember it as you raise your own children.

Just Once More
by Laura Brogden

I�d like to be pregnant just once more. I'd like to see a plus sign on a pregnancy test and do a dance of joy on the bathroom floor. I'd like to tell my husband, "We did it," and see the joy on his face. I'd like to walk with my secret in those early months, a proud grin on my mouth, inexplicable to those who do not know. I'd like to take prenatal vitamins every day.
Just once more, I'd like to feel my clothes grow tighter and let that make me smile. I'd like to tell my daughter there's a tiny baby in my tummy, a brother or a sister for us to love. I'd like to see her eyes grow wide and her heart full with happiness that I know will turn to envy. I'd like to worry about how she will adjust to her mommy caring for another child. Just once more, I'd like to feel this family grow.
Just once more, I'd like to watch my body swell. I'd like to look at myself in the mirror and rub cocoa butter on my hips and my breasts. I'd like to take warm naps when the sleepiness comes. I'd like to take loving care of myself.
Just once more, I'd like to make passersby smile at my enormous middle, and cause strangers to open doors and carry groceries for me. I'd like to feel the envy of the women in my life, those who will give advice and remember, for a moment, what it feels like to carry life inside of you. Just once more, I'd like to wear that womanly sacredness.
Just once more, I'd like to feel the movement inside me, and try to guess which body part is pressing on my ribs. I'd like to feel the gentle nudge of a baby's hiccups in my guts. I'd like to take my daughter's hand, and place it precisely on my skin, where it ripples and undulates. I'd like to peer over my stomach to find my toes, and watch my belly button turn inside out. Just once more, I'd like someone to be a part of me walking.
Just once more, I'd like to go to sleep at night, too big to be comfortable. I'd like to wonder if I will sleep through the night, or if labor will come before tomorrow. I'd like to feel the first contraction and get out the stopwatch.
Just once more, I'd like to ride the waves of contractions, howling. I'd like to marvel at the strength of my body. Just once more, I'd like to squeeze my husband's hands when it hurts, and have them massage my back when it subsides. I'd like to breathe those funny breaths and hum that strange, guttural tone. Just once more I'd like to bring forth a child, slippery and wet from the depths of my body. I'd like to feel God move through me.
Just once more, I would like to undress a newborn child and count the toes and fingers. I would like to see my husband's eyes looking back at me from the face in my arms. I'd like to look for birthmarks, and place my finger in a tiny powerful fist. I'd like to turn names over in my mind, listening to the sound of them with our family names, and see if they match the new face in my arms. Just once more, I'd like to see a soul with a new body and a new name.
Just once more, I'd like to hold a child at my breast and feel the milk let down, ready to nourish and comfort. I'd like to feel my breasts heavy and uncomfortable, so full the milk squirts out when I take a warm shower. I'd like to hold that child to my chest and rock and sing. I'd like, just once more, to feel my shirt wet, warm, and sticky from milk too ready to pour. Just once more, I would like to be more animal than human, connected to all the living mothers in fur or in skin.
Just once more, I'd like to fold tiny clothes, change tiny diapers. I'd like to help my daughter hold this new baby for the first time. I'd like to see my husband sway an infant in his massive arms. I'd like to fill the house with baby things: blankets and toys, a swing and a bassinet. I'd like to feel the relief of getting a child to sleep, finally, and the tension of checking for breath throughout the night. I'd like to wish again for just one uninterrupted night of sleep. Just once more, I'd like to live when the days and nights are no longer marked by light and darkness, but full and empty stomachs.
Just once more, I'd like to host the visitors, the well-wishers, the gift-bringers. I'd like to hold my newest child up proudly for viewing. I'd like to see my mother cry at the miracle of this new life. I'd like to hand the baby to my husband so that I could hold and cradle my daughter. I'd like to tell her about the time that she was as small and needy as her new sibling, and how we tended her as gently.
Just once more, I'd like to let love multiply.

Laura Brogden is devoted to mothering her daughter Gabriel (3) and nurturing her creative self as a writer/gardener/poet (ageless). Laura also works full time at a community college in Northwest Washington.

WEAN ME GENTLY
by Carol Cardell
I know I look so big to you, maybe I seem too big for the needs I have. But no matter how big we get, we still have needs that are important to us. I know that our relationship is growing and changing, but I still need you. I need your warmth and closeness, especially at the end of the day when we snuggle up in bed. Please don't get too busy for us to nurse. I know that you think that I can be patient or find something else do: a book, a glass of something, but nothing can take your place when I need you. Sometimes just cuddling with you, having you near me is enough. I guess I am growing and becoming independent, but please be there. This bond we have is strong and so important to me, please don't break it abruptly.
Wean me gently, because I am your mother and my heart is tender.

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking

"When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.
When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and learned that it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.
When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer, and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and I learned to trust in God.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to afriend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and moneyto help people who had nothing and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me good night and I felt loved and safe.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it, and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your responsibilities even when you didn't feel good, and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared, and I wanted to become everything that I could be.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted to say, "Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking."

Each of us, parent or friend, influence the life of a child.