I remember, like it was yesterday, the teachers who fired their scorn at my vivacity—until it dwindled to just a flicker. Today, I feel cheated by those teachers. They made me feel inadequate as a developing young woman. And now, as a mother, I wonder— what could have been?
But I won't let my daughter wonder that same thing. Today, if we're in a doctor's waiting room, restaurant, or sporting event, she chats with everyone.
Life shoots out of her. Enthusiasm radiates from her body. And sometimes, I can tell—people become a little put off. I've seen eyes roll. Heads turn away. But I don't care. I won't stop her. As long as she's not being rude or disrespectful, she's harmless. She's being a kid. She's enjoying her life. She's discovering who she is. I want her to always feel that confidence like she does today. I won't silence her. I won't let her feel cheated. And when she's older, I want her to confidently speak up in a class discussion, to fearlessly tell a joke at a party, to flawlessly give a speech in front of a crowd.
To have courage when she needs to speak out about an injustice and to have poise when she needs to articulate her feelings. To feel comfortable using her words, as I remind her now—and for the rest of her life.
Angela-Anagnost-Repke is a writer dedicated to raising two empathetic children. She hopes that her graduate degrees in English and counseling help her do just that. Angela is known for her dreadful technology skills and her mean Grecian chicken. She is currently at-work on the cross-generational memoir, Mothers Lie. When I think about the Super Bowl, two things come to mind: funny commercials and tasty snacks. If you're hosting the Super Bowl and have kiddos around, the name of the game pun intended is to offer a spread of snacks loaded with proteins and vitamins that will keep everyone's energy levels up the entire game, and won't make your friends rely on greasy items.
Recipe from Gimme Delicious. I have a love-hate relationship with maternity clothes. On one hand, I love them because they make me feel comfortable as my bump grows, without anything getting in the way of my breathing or baby's movement. On the other hand, I've really struggled finding items that are my style—which I admit is very particular—or don't cost a ton of money.
During my first pregnancy I bought a bunch of basic pregnancy outfits and tried to include some of my non-maternity favorites in the mix. Sometimes it worked, sometimes in the middle of a work day I had to run to the bathroom to unzip my high waisted skirt because it was too much to handle. By the time baby came, I realized I had spent a ton of money on clothing that I barely wore, and passed them on to other pregnant friends some items still with tags on.
With my second pregnancy, I decided I needed to be comfortable above all, but also not spend a ton of money on fast pregnancy fashion because these months go super fast and I'm trying to be more environmentally conscious.
You were brave and strong to hike that trail despite all of the health issues you have encountered over the past few months. Do not allow a little sweat and the absence of makeup allow you to step out of that visual.
Your grandkids love that porch swing, but they adore it with you swinging alongside them. Be you, and leave a legacy for generations yet to come. Make memories, friends. Select Gender? This helps us keep people, musicians and brands searchable on Myspace. Please select Female Male Unspecified. This is your profile URL. Pick one that's 25 characters or less and includes a letter. You can throw in numbers, dots and dashes, too. Pick one that's hard-to-crack, only known by you, and at least 6 characters long.
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But not my boy. He knew that any job worth doing was worth doing well. Now his hand moved up to my breast and I arched my back to press myself against him. He squeezed my nipple and I squealed a little; he seemed to like that and did it again. Then he moved the soft fabric aside to free my straining tits. No doubt he liked that my nipples, like his sister's, were pink and pert. He immediately set to licking and sucking them. I moved my hand to his waist and down to his fly; his cock felt nice and hard under there.
The poor thing needed to be free, it wanted to come out and play. While Randy attended to my nipples, he moved in order for me to unzip him. I opened his slacks first, enjoying the sight of his cock outlined in his blue underwear. He helped me get the slacks off, then I teased him, fingering the waistband of his underwear, running my thumb over his hard cock underneath, making him squirm and groan.
Finally I reached in and brought him out, his manhood there in my grasp, warm and throbbing with anticipation. His breaths had quickened when I began touching him, but became even sharper now as I moved to lick his cock. Holding him in my hand, I licked every inch of him, tasting the sweet precum, squeezing the shaft gently, sucking his balls a little. He surprised me by spreading his large hand on the back of my head and pressing me into him.
I took his cock in my mouth and sucked while he moved my head up and down and writhed in pleasure. It was clear that he wanted to come, so I gave him my best effort; changing up my tempo, sucking hard and releasing, blowing hot air on the tip.
And then he exploded with a loud exclamation, still holding my head down, so that I took his load into my mouth. I swallowed just because it seemed the most disgustingly sexy thing to do in the circumstances. The very act aroused me even more. I licked him clean and sat up, smiling. I stood and took off my dress, and awaited his reaction. He simply stared at me, at my crotch, which I'd let grow out in the last couple of weeks, and put his hands on my hips.
He began kissing my stomach, softly, almost reverently, careful to ease his way down toward my cunt. He ran a finger through my pubic hair, pressing a little harder each time, making me grunt. I was so wet that if he shoved himself in right now I'd ride him all night. But he continued taking his time. I moved my legs apart, inviting him inside me. Still using the one finger, he explored my vulva, oh-so-slowly caressed my clit I moaned , and inserted his finger inside my vagina.
He finger banged me a few times with a snort of pleasure, especially enjoying the way I writhed. He had me right where he wanted me. It occurred to me that I'd assumed I'd be the one making all the moves; how wrong I was! I felt like a young woman again, at the mercy of my lover, letting him play me like a cheap guitar. I was ready for anything Randy wanted to do.
Generously, he wanted to give me an orgasm. He moved back to my clit now, employing more fingers, first touching me gently, now more intensely, and finally squeezing it hard, making me cry out, to the point where I fell back onto the loveseat, my legs spread wide across his lap, as he worked my clit into an agonizing frenzy of pleasure.
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