The library gave Dad and me a safe space to exist outside our roles at home. I learnt about Dad’s tastes in films and books. I also learnt he likes to take his...
My mother is a cleaner, her single mother – my Abuelita – was too. I'm now the first person in my family to go to university.
The right age to start the sex ed conversation is when a child is interested enough to ask.
Motherhood can be the most powerful and yet the most vulnerable a woman can be.
I can only hope that I have broken the cycle of trauma with my children.
In the last days of her life, in the confines of her bed, Earl Grey tea represented freedom, comfort and feeling almost human.
I needed to see Spanish as a culture my kids could enjoy, not just a language they needed to learn.
Slowly, I learnt to appreciate the rhythm of my father’s garden. I learnt to appreciate his patience and the growing of food as an act of love and generosity.
The wave of emotion I felt when I stood there holding my daughter turned me into jelly.
As frustrated as I was with Garfunkel, after a time I realised it was a window into another life, too – my parents’.
Our views on motherhood were surprisingly not that different, considering we were from different generations and cultures.
The hardest part of caring for my parents so far has been accepting them for who they are.
Chocolate can't be in the house at any time under any circumstance, which is a shame for my kids.
Feeding, swaddling and singing to a baby – how hard could it be? At classes, I paid little attention to anything else except childbirth.
Reading aloud with your child can strengthen the parent-child relationship and foster reading engagement.
In the dream a doctor looked up at me and said, “You’re pregnant, it’s a girl”.
Like most expecting first time mums, I was obsessed with the birth and I could not look beyond it. I figured I would learn to breastfeed when the time came.
In Chinese culture, paying for something communicates respect, gratitude and kindness, and illustrates how much you value your relationship with a person.
Our daily exercise was simple: one page of journaling per day. A tiny ritual that would soon take me further into English, and away from my mother.