Mothering Blogs & Blog Posts

Blogs on mothering

  • The Waxing Moon

    Thumbnail for The Waxing MoonPoetry, photos, and environmental and political commentary from Whitehorse, Yukon.
  • coffee with Julie

    Thumbnail for coffee with JulieThis is where readers join Julie for a coffee break from daily life. We share silly family...

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Latest Blog Posts on mothering

  • shallow roots by The Waxing Moon on Nov 1, 2009

    Something has gone terribly wrong in the native culture education programming in our elementary schools. My daughter told me last night that she can't be native, because she doesn't eat moose. We talked about it again in the morning, and she said a m...

  • Freshly made love by The Waxing Moon on May 28, 2009

    This is a morning for chocolate,for the sun’s kiss tingling smooth-slick skinand robins, contented in their rich song.Crack the window for the unforgettable smellof line-dried sheets and a touch of rainon the chaos-wild garden.This is a morning for...

  • Misery (snippet) by The Waxing Moon on May 2, 2009

    She roars, and where is sleep?Hiding somewhere in a far cornerof the room, hunkered downpreparing for the stormears flattened, tail dropped lowbetween folded limbs.If you know of a cure for childhood night terrors and sleepwalking, I'm all ears. My h...

  • Harbinger by The Waxing Moon on Mar 18, 2009

    her chest fell, dry as a crumpled leafbreath well-spent on the dance of lifea treasure trove of nights and daysturned over and over, these bedridden hourseach polished smooth and worn as river stoneshe lay alone, but for the quilther mama had stitche...

  • Twin stories by The Waxing Moon on Jan 4, 2009

    There is a place with a fresh running stream where you once could wash away infertility. Women used to go there, bathe, sit amongst the trees, and think. When they returned to their people, they would be ready to conceive. This place is under the bel...

  • Spirit child by The Waxing Moon on Dec 12, 2008

    Her hair was fire or was it air? a pulsatilla cloud its strands frozen, motionless as the fear struck her. It was her back turned towards me, rigid, and her arms wrapped securely around her bundle of special things that gave her away. A child she...

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