Tag Archive | Mother

Second Generataion of Dirty Mothers

There are were four of them. ( sadly, three of us have now experienced what it is like to lose one of us)

And their names are BB, LM, SG. & our beloved VJ

That would be me and the three women I have grown up with. We are the four original Dirty Mothers.

A good friend whose name is David and we lost back in the 90’s  realized something we were doing which we four women had never given a second thought to, It seemed a natural for us. David thought other wise, he thought it pretty eccentric of us.

We began losing our mothers in the late 1980’s. LM,’s mother sadly was the first to leave this earth. Then it was my mother. SG’s mom & her mom’s identical twin, and lastly VJ’s mom. Since our mothers had also been neighbors & friends the wakes for each mother were neighborhood affairs.  Our friend David  who was a photographer would grace the wake with his montage of personal photographs. Always beautiful, always tasteful.

It is also David who gave us this name. The Dirty Mothers,  Not very feminine sounding I would agree   yet David.. ..being David.. would  just smile; shrug his shoulders,  hold his hands out, palms facing up; as if to say, “and your point is what?”

It really is not as unflattering as it sounds. If you know now what the significance  is to Dirty Mothers you should win a prize  just for being in the know. You might even be considered just as eccentric by your friends as David thought of us.

One of these women I met at birth, mine. (so we are told) SG is the oldest with LM being the baby, and VJ & myself in between; all four of us born in 1955.  Our family’s lived in the same neighborhood and our moms would do the stereo-typical “coffee get together” around the family dining tables most week day mornings. I have a vivid memory of them sitting together at my mom’s table, chatting about many things I did not understand.  VJ rounded us out and made us the  perfect quartet in the 7th grade,  her mom was an acquaintance to our mothers as well.

Finding ourselves having to gather so often in our 30’s  for wakes for our beloved mothers and other people in our joined lives that our dear mutual friend David nick – named us The Dirty Mothers.  An Odd & eccentric name for a group of women who have known each all of their lives. We took to it naturally.

Where.,or how did David come up this unusual name? I know you are wanting to know why this name.  If you  know the why, or are on the same page as David was without me having to tell you than  I am impressed. you can move to the head gf the class.

A hint, the nick name did not come from this song,  However; I could not believe there is a song actually titled with the same name so I am sharing it with this anecdotal story. The Mothers would approve. All of them!

The name comes from an alcoholic mixed drink that we of the now dubbed Dirty Mothers would drink during the wake memorials of our respective mothers. Our friend David spotted this ritual we had begun even before we realized what we were doing.

Hence the club of the Dirty Mothers had been born.

So what is a Dirty Mother you are asking?

We would begin by making this drink in a blender, the trick is proportions. We would begin with taking a half-gallon (2.27 liter) of Half & Half Cream & four oz (28 gm) to six of good quality gold tequila to the mix. Next add the coffee flavored  liquor  such a Kahlua™ y  a 50 to 50 ratio to the tequila. Depending on which Dirty Mother was making the pitcher of Dirty Mothers would be the deciding factor for how much is too much tequila. Blend till frothy, serve on the rocks.  And please Friends if you are going to try this,  do put your seat belts on before you even begin.

My friend and yours: A Dirty Mother.

These women and I would spend the evenings together after all family & friends had finally gone on to their own lives again. We would find a quiet alone place to huddle together, hanging on to one another for the evening or the night – often just spending the night so no one was driving.  Albeit grown-up big girls we found slumber patties to be comforting on such evenings.  We still do. This was not our typical time spent together obviously and we found being together like this required something to loosen our tongues the first time. It then became naturally our thing.

The Dirty Mothers Club.

We’d never had this when it came to the loss of any of our fathers but somehow the connection of being women made this ritual feel exactly like what we were supposed to be doing. What we needed to be doing. Even we felt we had our own mothers blessings. It was a time to spend together sharing tears, and sharing laughter. To this day I have special and cherished memories of these evenings. The painful memories are the  months weeks and or days before the wake, and during the actual memorials. These evenings were the time when our healing began.

There was something about gathering together with my extended family of women. My Dirty Mothers. You see, not only have we been friends our entire lives we are also 2nd generation friends out of four generations of the same families being connected through friendships.

Let me explain…

All four of us have had children, all girls ironically. Our children who are adults, now have children. Each generation has remained friends. Each has been raised together, knowing one another, and as close as can be while growing up without being related by blood. We may be closer in fact having the gift of choosing this our extended family. All this wonder despite living in separate cities, and towns now as adults. Four generations of being friends that made family.

The women of the Dirty Mothers & I know we have been incredibly blessed. We  know we have a special and unique friendship. And we do not take any of it for granted anymore. Like so many

Like so many things in my life…We, The Dirty Mothers have come Full Circle.

©barefootbaroness  ( re-published on FB  01. 2013 )

She Was Quite The Lady This Irish Lass


This woman who I am so much alike. All my life I heard; “You look just like your Mother” Like my daughters today I would roll my eyes. When my mothers aunt developed dementia in her late years  and she kept calling me Wilma, I would hide. My mom’s birth name was Wilma only my mom had never really been called Wilma in my childhood, or hers. Her father nicknamed her Penny and it stuck. But my mom’s aunt kept confusing the little girl I then was, with the little girl she knew my mom to be some thirty years earlier. Even at the age of 7 I understood how surreal this was.

It has been 12 years this month since my mother was taken from this earth and therefore leaving both my brothers & I. She was someone I always looked up to, having the persistence and will of any man I knew. Only she was a lady. Things like manners, kindness and lady like behavior were important to my mom.  And she made certain they were also important to me. As I sat for a couple of days creating this scrapbook layout of my mom I was reminded by looking at her just how much I really do like her. It apparently takes years for that to be able to be seen in your own face, the face of your own parent. But there she is, looking back at me. When I look at her photo when she was just 18 yrs old in Lake Oswego Oregon, (USA) I see myself.  When I look in a mirror I am seeing my mom’s face looking back again. It may have taken me years to see her, but I wear my mother’s face  everywhere I go quite comfortable. I wear her face with great pride today.

Thanks Mom, I love & miss you.


A Mom & Daughter Puzzle – The Empty Pot

“Well Mom, who wrote the Quote?”

Me: “No one seems to know”

Daughter: “Did you do your own reasearch?”

Me: “I tried, could not find anything but anonymous”

Daughter: “Let’s Google it!!”

Me: shaking my head.  Of Course!


Need to find an answer today ask your kid. I recently posted the poem below and although I could not find any answer myself and settled for anonymous like thousands of other bloggers seem to be doing right along with me. Leave it to my ethical child who as she has always claimed was raised by her hippie mom would not accept the answer that we could not find who to attribute the poem too.

The partial poem in question was

* If you plant honesty, you will reap trust
* If you  plant goodness, you will reap friends
* If you plant humility, you will reap  greatness
* If you plant perseverance, you will reap contentment
* If you  plant consideration, you will reap perspective
* If you plant hard work, you  will reap success
* If you plant forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation…….

(excerpt from full poem)

My daughter is a brilliant & ethical. She also cannot abide by people taking credit for something they should not. She gave me props (Thank you kid!) for not at least letting it appear I wrote it, but she was not accepting the anonymous story. As she said to me, “It came from somewhere. She has such a great point. And me? What was my excuse for not hunting further than a casual internet search in which I saw anonymous so many times on its first page I accepted it. But just for a second resource because that is what I do I then went to my 10 pound book of Bartlet‘s Book Of Quotations” that has been my companion for almost 45 yrs. Again. Nothing. So my great analytical research mind accepted this. I posted and said credit should go where  credit is due,  but I could not give a credit. And I was wrong. Thanks Kid!

Thanks to my daughter and her computer experience and knowledge of the Google search Engine she & I can give this poem it’s proper credit. I’m kind of  proud of this kid of mine. She had emergency brain surgery 3 years ago as some of you know and she has a better analytical mind than mine is sweet.  Not that there wa sany great impairments she has had some issues. She just keeps improving. And that is SO sweet.

My kid, daughter #2, mother of my grandson who I have also mentioned in prior posts found the answer we bloggers have been looking for,  The author of this poem. MY ethical child who could not let it go, she and I worked together for about 15 minutes hunting down one link after another until we found a book. This book contains this quote in it;s entirety.  It may only be a partial source and the author may have used  it too not knowing if it is that old of a quote. We read too that the quote may date back to ancient Chinese beliefs. My daughter J* and I want to share the book we found.  And my daughter’s message is? “Don’t give up just because you might not find it on the first page staring at you.”  My take away lesson?  Learn from your children, and how sweet any time is with your kid.

The  book is called “The Empty Pot” author~ Demo

It would be considered a children’s book but I beg to differ But then I believe “Where The Wild Things Are” is an adult book so maybe we should not go there. All I can say is it is now part of my wish list at Amazon.

Amazing what two-generations can do. I said this to my daughter and she agreed, adding, “And a hippie mom with Hippie child.”

I smiled at my daughter. She is her mother’s child.

The book and info about it can be found at amazon.com

The Empty Pot:


Demi. Bio:



Note to author:  Thanks so much for the use of your poem & mention of your book.

When Daughters Become Mothers Too

I have a serious question for you:

(and then a brief piece of sharing)

If you have an adult daughter or daughter-in-law in your life who is herself a mother now, do you acknowledge her on Mothers Day?

 If so, how? 

And if you do not; can you please share with me what your belief is about this?

It’s been over 35 years since my husband & I were gifted with our two daughters. While they were growing up Mother’s Day for me always started on Friday evening after getting home from work, and lasting until bedtime Sunday night. Mother’s Day. As the Queen for the weekend I would be pampered, cherished, and able to do whatever it was I pleased. This included where and what I wanted to eat, and when of course. My food choices varied over the years depending on cravings and our growing family budget.  The weekend start would find my daughters and husband in cahoots and great secrecy planning my weekend. My Mother’s Day would always began with our two girls  bringing toast, orange juice, and with the help of their daddy, coffee and my mom’s fruit salad to me in bed. The girls were not allowed to use the stove in those early days of Breakfast In Bed;  albeit hot breakfasts could never hold a candle to the beautiful tray my babies would set for me. Having both my mom and my mom in law represented on the tray with a vase and linen napkins that were once theirs helped some with  my own mom being a distance away. Wee would typically just be able to talk on the phone on Mother’s Day which did help me to feel nearer to her.  Always the girls would find the coolest and most different foliage to create a bouquet to adorn the tray,along with the cloth napkins and my Sunday paper. (Advertisements always removed) the girls would quietly knock on the door and creep in singing in their light & lyrical little peeping voices: “Happy Mothers Day Mommy!! “

This weekend I realize its been about 19 years ago our daughter #1 gifted our family with an angel. My first baby gave me a gift that I had been waiting for all my life. Since childhood I had always wanted to be a grandmother, I could not wait to be a grandma and even as young as 4 years old I remember play acting with mybaby dolls as their Nana. Somehow as a small child the whole logistic issue of needing to be a mommy first  skipped my reasong ( But that desire did in fact come later) 

The week in 1992 that  we learned my own mother was dying of terminal – final stages  -of lung cancer. Simply stated I was devastated. It had been just a year prior that we had moved back to my hometown bringing us just  5 minutes away from her. God works in some amazing ways.  That week while we trying to go on with every day living and managing my own mom dying we received a phone call from Iwukuni Japan. This was where our daughter #1 was stationed with her Marine Corps Jarhead husband. Calls from Japan were luxuries, and we had just spoke the day before. Somewhat feeling a sense of walking through fog as I listened on speaker phone as our daughter #1 told us that we were to become grandparents together. Finally. ( My husband at the time already had 4 grandchildren. I am not his 1st wife, but am his last) It was the most exciting news we had heard since the news of her own impending birth and that of her sisters.  The bitter-sweetness of discovering the news that I was to lose my mom and be blessed with a grandchild-  all in the same week – was almost too much to bear. But very soon I saw that my grandchild is my angel – heaven-sent. A baby girl we would learn a few month later through her very first photograph. That of an ultra-sound.

Just about 6 years later our immediate family was to grow by two more feet. Our daughter #2 blessed us with our 2nd grand baby from our own tiny family. This now would make 7 in total with D.”s five grand children who are just as much mine. (We’re currently at the count and the wonder of 8 grand children and one great grand baby boy)  Our daughter #2 gifted this Nana with her only grandson. Its been such an exciting thing watching this young man grow from infant to young man (12 yrs of age) I did not meet my step son until he almost 9 yrs of age, all those early years when a child is forming the “who” they are to become I was not privy to. Having the absolute gift and delight of getting this chance to see a baby boy become a vibrant giving back to the world young man is pretty special.

My two daughters who I think about daily, and rarely does a day go by that I don’t hear from one or both have made my adult years the best part of my life. I never have had to question who I am, or what I was doing with my life because I knew. I knew then and I know now that my children are the best work of my life. I know that my husband & I have gifted our family’s, this world, and our communities with two of the brightest and most outwardly giving young women I am proud to know. Their own personal successes are not limited to, but most assuredly include the gifts of our two grandchildren. My lights.

My mother never acknowledged me on Mothers Day. It was her day. I never actually gave it a thought. Even when my own daughters became new mommy’s and I celebrate their mommyhood on Mother’s Day it never occurred to me that I could be creating a bit of a tiff in my family. Actually that is not so, it was with my son in  laws family. His mother, my daughter #1’s mother in law believed I was committing a sacrilege by honoring my daughters also on Mother’s Day. She felt it was taking away something from the elder mothers and that it just should not take place. Although beyond that her tongue always seemed tied on this point.

I was never on the fence about this issue personally. I continue to celebrate this holiday that is perfectly intended to honor my daughters just as much as it is to honor my late mother, and mother – in -law. I am still  quiteb affled by my daughter’s now ex-mother -in laws’ ttitude and beliefs. It has never been something I can reconcile myself with. I don’t know why these small acts on my own to celebrate the fact that my female children are mothers too. I think its quite a sweet thing being able to share thos wonder of Motherhood with my now dult dauughters who are now also mommy’s. An amazing way to bond, another gift of bonding material for us to work with.

 So, what about you?  Do you celebrate your own children’s parenting on Mothers and Fathers Day?  Please share. I really am curious about this question.

And while I am writing about my two beautiful babies who are in my alter ego version of themselves now adult women with babies of their own I want to publicly celebrate the incredible ways of their own parenting, that of which I adore. You are both excellent parents with amazing memories you have and are creating for your own children. Your babies who are the next generational gifts to this world – from you both.

 Happy Mother’s Day A & J:  from your daddy & your mommy~ Thank you both!!  

This is for you both~

I love that you loved all of my “art”

though I’m sure it was uglier than a pile of warts.

From pottery to painting to paper mache,

you even liked that drawing of me and Nick Lachey.

But, come on, at this point it’s all older than vintage,

so I think it’s time to take it down from the fridge.

©tjhelser 2012