Maren's Many Moments

What follows is completely my opinion.  I am often frustrated with people who describe something as the only way to do things.  Look, I barely function in my own life.  I have no way of ever telling anyone that my way is better than theirs, or that I know more than they do.  However, I have been specifically requested to write about this from a few different people. People want to know how I find out about the activities that I do with my kids.  They also want to know how I have the energy and such to do these things with the kids.  I have even been asked why these things seem to be such a priority for me. Well, after my divorce, I sat my young daughters down.  And they were very young.  However, life would be different now. They would live in two separate houses.  They would experience things different than their friends.  Also, money would be different.  Now, to this day I do not know if what I did was right or wrong, but it seemed to work.  We had a conversation about money, whe

The animated movie the Prince of Egypt has one of my favorite songs in it, sung by one of my favorite singers, Brian Stokes Mitchell, and written by one of my favorite composers, Stephen Schwartz.  From the time the movie came out in 1998, it touched me in a way that I continue to remember it during the difficult times I have, when I wonder if I am doing anything that makes much of a difference at all. A single thread in a tapestry, though it's color brightly shines, can never see it's purpose in the pattern of the grand design.  I cannot accurately describe how often I tell myself that I am only one person.  That the things I do are so minimal or unimportant in the grand scheme of things.  This has served a destructive purpose of allowing me to often feel like I am not as worthwhile as others that I know that seem more talented, beautiful, intelligent, or in any other way fabulous than I am. A lake of gold in a desert sand is less than a cool fresh spring. And to one lost

Once a year, this day comes around.  It is when we are supposed to give thanks for our mothers.  I have a wonderful mother who I love dearly.  She has been supportive of every decision I have made.  She has been active and proud of me.  She watched my daughter while getting Chemo treatments.  She is someone I will always strive to be like. This day seems to also bring pain.  I think of my dear friend who lost his mom too soon, and loved her more than words could say.  He lost her around Mother's Day, so the day is a double whammy of pain and sadness and loss. I think of another friend, who longed to be a mother, but it never happened.  She hides out on Mother's Day, turns off all social media, and tries to do anything she can to get through the reminders of the pain of this day. I think of another friend, whose mother had drug addiction and mental health issues and so many problems that she was never really the mother that this person needed.  This person instead had to na

When the musical South Pacific came out in 1949, it caused quite the controversy.  Rogers and Hammerstein were encouraged to leave out the song You've Got to be Carefully Taught, because it was seen as a song that justified interracial relationships and was far to risque.  However, the pair persisted and South Pacific was and is still a major hit. Yet, I still feel like hate is taught.   I spent my evening learning about the small African country of Burundi this evening.  It was interesting, insightful, and fun.  I was invited to come up and dance, and felt like quite the fool with my chubby 5 foot nothing frame and my Scandinavian lack of dance heritage, but no one cared.  They just welcomed us all up with them and draped beautiful fabric around us while we danced. One woman told of how she was kicked out of a country because she was from Burundi, and living in the country where her husband was from.  When her husband died, leaving her and her small children, she was told that

Click Here This was a beautiful production.  I am so glad I got a chance to see it.