These findings are the outcome of the first scientific study into the links between adolescents’ and parents’ burnout.

“Experiences of burnout were shared most particularly between adolescents and parents of the same gender, i.e. between daughters and mothers and between sons and fathers,” says Katariina Salmela-Aro, psychology professor at Jyvaskyla University, Finland.

“The parent of the same gender seems to serve as a role model for the development of burnout,” adds Salmela-Aro, who led the research. School burnout is a chronic school-related stress syndrome that is manifested in fatigue, experiences of cynicism about school and a sense of inadequacy as a student.

Estimates of such burnout were obtained from 515 ninth-graders aged 15 and from 595 parents of these adolescents. The results showed that experiences of burnout were shared in families. Parental burnout may also show up as a negative style of upbringing and as a lowered interest and involvement in adolescents’ lives.

The results indicated that family finances were also reflected in the level of shared burnout, says a Jyvaskyla varsity release.

“The greater the family’s financial worries, the higher the level of experienced burnout. This is an important result in view of the potential impact of the ongoing recession on the well-being of families and young people,” says Salmela-Aro.

http://www.idiva.com/bin/idiva/Worried-parents-equal-stressed-children

My mother’s having a breakdown;

it happens every day.

She gives the children a shakedown;

one of us will have to pay.

We’re locked up in a bedroom;

we’ll be there ‘til we decide

which one of us will agree to

confess some petty crime.

Mother’s got us under arrest, so

we’re under a lot of stress.

It makes matters worse to protest, so

one of us must confess.

We’re prisoners in a lockdown

for what we did or didn’t do.

Someone’s in for a takedown;

it’s down to me or you.

My mother’s favorite movie

is “The Caine Mutiny”;

she thinks that she’s a Captain at sea

with a crew in conspiracy.

My mother’s throwing a tantrum;

watch out for flying glass.

No way to stop the action;

like a hurricane, it will pass.

http://gregoryfegel.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/08/mother-s-having-a-breakdown.htm

My father died last month (4^th Nov,07) after prolonged illness at a tender age of 80. Our whole family was with him at hospital during his last days. He died amidst wife, sons, daughters, grand sons,grand daughters,sons in laws , daughter in laws,friends and other relatives.

This is a rare occasion in everybody’s life. When we enter into life everybody laughs except the baby. Then this small baby grows, becomes a kid, dreams, becomes a man, enters into family,the family grows. As the time moves the man spreads over the family like a big umbrella. This was my father.

Move another forty years, and my father was a long shade now, standing like a big banyan tree. People used to flock around him , used to have some chit-chat with him and then moved on their path. Some times Panchanan uncle used to come to him. Together they talked about current news and old days.

When I go to Howrah ,I always used to sit beside him and I felt the warmth of long love of him. Like a morning sun cheers the day, His warmth used to make me blush. My daughter used to tease me for that.

Life is no fare game. But he, who lives up those problems becomes a real strong man. In his life he was born in a very poor family , Had faced all sorts of problems but he out lived all the problems and gave his family a long list of stories to relish on the family dining.

He was a very humble and pious man. I never saw him going to any temple for offerings but he never returned any beggar empty handed from his door step.

He was never fond of traveling. The longest journey he made from home was upto Jagannath Puri seventeen years back and that too after tons of wooing by our family.

His passion was gardening, There is lot of open spaces around our family home which he turned into a beautiful garden. You name any tree and that is there. His latest is a sandal wood tree, planted last year. There was a teak wood tree which had to be axed because of extension of our family home. That day we saw him crying.

Today I cannot see him around but when I sit in the garden ,I hear the mummer of leaves I know he is there between the leaves , between the flours , He is everywhere. His lime tree is now full of fruits. The golden color limes are swinging in the breeze.

Baba, I know you are here in this garden. Every leaves are bearing the sweet and loving touch of your kind hands. You are in us, you are in this whole place.

The saddest part of life is not in the act of dying but in failing to live a true life while we are alive. If that is true then My father has lived a full life. He lived up all his energy,capacity and power to live a fully enjoyable life.

My father was a silent leader. He never blamed anybody , never raised any hue and cry. He worked silently and honestly in raring his family. Great leaders are those who work when no-one is watching because leaders take responsibility for the result they generate.

The main purpose of life is to find a cause which is bigger than your life and give your life to it. In his difficult days his sole purpose was to feed his four children , parents , educating them properly and making them well established in life.

He did well fulfill his purpose of life before he died peacefully. Every body will go some day but very few can go so gracefully like my father.

Our entire locality lined up during his funeral procession. The traffic movement stopped for a while. Alive ,my father would have felt very shy of causing such inconvenience but he was laying there peacefully. He was the last of his generation in our locality. With him a whole generation of old people in our locality is gone.

life is something like a sort of splendid torch which one has got to hold up for the moment and one would want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.

Legacy which caries a man long long after he is gone.

My father did just like that. It is now on us to carry his legacy in times to come.

With deep respect to my father Sh. Biswanath Bera

S Bera

NTPC-Mumbai

http://berasomnath.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/08/my-father.htm

Usually I don’t have secrets; always share with Ma the little details of my life. Ma has already heard ShowmikDa’s name. Normally, I would have told her that I met him at Esplanade and he had treated me at Anadi. Ma wouldn’t have smelled anything. But now if I go and tell her the truth she surely will. So stupid Sanjana had no other option but to face the consequences of her stupid little lie.

Showmik Da– how easily I could mention him to you diary. But that day I could not address him even once. Of course there was no necessity. In a conversation between first and second person, use of nouns is redundant. Pronouns rather than nouns do the job of addressing. But how should I address him when I see him next? or will I see him again? Next year Amrita and I may land up in a different world. In that case, she won’t even invite me to her birthdays. But something, some weird feeling in me says that I will meet him again and then the need of addressing him would arise then . But what makes me so sure? Todays’s meeting is just a coincidence. Co-incidences don’t get repeated.

Today I didn’t but I have to tell Amrita tomorrow. I must not repeat the same mistake I have done with Ma. If she learns from ShowmikDa—she will paint the picture to her convenience. How I hate calling him ShowmikDa. I never addressed my own brother Dada and he is a good six year older than me. I just call him Shan.

Though there was always a pinch of guilt associated with it, I kept on calling him Shan.That feeling of guilt had also dissipated once I had grown up. There was so many casual acquaintances, whom I to address as Dada the word lost its significance. Now it seems more suitable for the musclemen who control the area and eve-teasers on the rock; Shovan a , BabluDa, Javed Da – I have Dada’s of every shade and hues. Some of them even had sent me love-letters! So, it is only fair that there should be a difference in the mode of address between them and my own brother. The relationship between a brother and sister is special. He should not be addressed casually on par with mere acquaintances.

But few of my friends think like me. Once while sitting at the steps of TT room – I had told this to Rita; and see what answer I got! She said “ Sanju! You are talking exactly like Purabi. Did you have a session with her lately?”
I was shell-shocked. Purabi had bagged the 6^th rank in Madhyamik . But cutting across the divide of HEP and Pati , everyone call Aatel—an intellectual sissy. And Rita thought I was one!

.” Come on. I didn’t say that you are an Aatel.It is just that you think of things that we don’t bother to even notice once.” She had apologized too.

I was hurt. But is there a grain of truth in her statement? Am I really weird?

http://bijaya-ghosh.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/08/pages-from-a-teenager-s-diary-6.htm

Is there any correctness or truth in the context of “freedom”.

A man is born free. In its true sense he is born free to enjoy his life without affecting the freedom of nature as others enjoys.

A parent chooses to have children and not the children choose to have parents. A parent who choose to have children is the law of nature, is bound by the duty to feed and grow the children to see the children is grown to have free life. However the elders keeps on teaching the children right from the beginning that they do lot to their children and the children has a duty towards the parents. The knowledge of man made him selfish even to himself. In the process the man robs the freedom of children and looses him too.

http://nmurali56.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/07/children-and-freedom.htm

I think i just came across the source,the fountains of such words.

They are simply you and me,but rewinded a few years backwards.For some it will be rewinded many years backwards.

They are children below the ages of 5,at their creative best.

When i listen to such children calling,a computer,adum.
When i listen to such children calling,sleep,nina.
calling pen,mann.nature’s call,chicha.
going to lu,as su.
calling nani,nun.calling food,khau.
calling chewing food as kattu kattu.
water,mum.

calling opening something(kholna),as lolo.
calling sitting down(beutho),as te to.
anything which is double,as tutu.

And another calling rain as appa mum mum.
and yet another calling loo,as vivi.

And the most amazing children singing,Bulla ki jaana main kaun,by Rabbi Shergil,

as “Bulla se shana(smarter) kaun?”

i am forced to think,who the real balshrees are!

http://torsaghosal.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/07/a-tribute-to-the-original-linguists.htm

http://nnbobby.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/07/abortion-should-be-no-longer-legal.htm

You know that I have been away for 2-3 days to spend some quality time with my Lord & Master who stays in a nearby city. It had been fun roaming around every evening on the mo-bike, window shopping, eating out and chattering nineteen to the dozen about everything under the sun and beyond. I spent the days lazing around and in between making anxious phone-calls home to find out if the dog was fed, if the gate was locked, if the food was heated properly, if ….. Oh jaane do na! You know how it is!! I guess mothers everywhere are the same!

Now you try and guess what happened on my return??!!!
After a tiring journey, I landed back home to be welcomed with slurpy kisses from my dog. She was ecstatic that I was back!! No more having to wait for Mom’s phone call to be fed! She pranced around me, wagging her tail. I smiled at her welcome, opened the door and staggered back in amazement!!??!
Where was the clean home I had left behind???????
Well, it had been only 2 or maybe 3 days back I left this place, wasn’t it?? Or had it been last year or the year before??? It looked like it anyway!!!!!! I had left it in if not perfect at least near-perfect condition!!! Had there been a cyclone in my absence?? Or maybe an earthquake or a tsunami had unleashed its fury?? My head reeled, dear diary.
The clothes were strewn all over the place, the news paper spread out page by page, dirty plates and glasses and cups littered the study tables!!
The dog seemed to have had a free run of the house. Deciding to be sporting it had joined the little masters and contributed her wee mite by rolling on the sofa leaving her furry white hair everywhere and also piling up all her leftovers on the carpet!
The ants seemed to have found this a welcome change!!
“Hey buddy!” they were calling out to one another in glee even as I watched in horror, making a bee-line for the piece of bread lying on the carpet, “Mom’s not at home and the dog’s left us something. Let’s party!”
I jumped back in alarm as some of them dared to gang up to bite me on seeing that the spoilsport Mom was after all, back.
I moved on dejectedly, wanting to scream but since no one was home as yet to scream at I wisely gave up, reserving it for another time when I could have more fruitful results.

Do you think that was all?? Guess again!
I entered my room and was flabbergasted. My room was in the hit-list too! *&@%$*^#
”I give up! Oh God dear God, I give up!!” I wailed silently.
I remembered all the lessons on equanimity in the face of crisis, took a few deep breaths, reminding myself that I was a calm and cool person, cooler than the Kelvinator refrigerators, which a penguin says are the coolest ones and penguns after all, should know these things! Then having found the inner strength to accept the inevitable, I went, had a nice cool bath and quietly took things into hand. I almost reverted to my previous state when I found all the combs had gone missing from my dresser! Combs?? What did they want with my combs??
There has been such a lot to do today. I have been slogging from morning to get the house back into shape. When the monkeys …errr I mean Martians… oops I mean children, come home in due course, they will find a clean house and will not even give it a second thought.

Whatever have I taught these children of mine??!

Ahhhhh, my back is breaking!

See you tomorrow if I am able to get up from the horizontal.

Mom.

http://shail-mohan.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/06/from-a-mom-s-diary.htm

But as the cliche goes Motherhood changes EVERYTHING. The moment I held my baby in my arms and looked at his precious face, I instantly fell in love with him. All those doubts and uncertainties (Will I be able to handle motherhood?, How would I change diapers, feed, or bathe a newborn?) instantly melted away. I instinctively knew that everything would be ok.

I grew up so much during the first few months of motherhood. I discovered that being a mother really is all that it’s cracked up to be — and much more. I could hardly believe that I was nurturing a brand new human life, that with my love, care, and attention, this tiny being would hopefully grow up to be a wonderful person. It was a lot to take in at the time, but these were definitely joyous thoughts.

The last six months haven’t always been easy. I’ve had my fair share of sleepless nights, baby illnesses, and more recently, toddler tantrums. But through it all, my son remains the true pride and joy of my life.

So for those of you who might be going through your own period of doubt, believe me: I totally understand. Children don’t come with owners’ manuals to help guide us through parenthood. That is where parents creativity comes in. But in all likelihood things will work out just fine for you, and you’ll soon experience the unparalleled joys of motherhood. And hey while being at it, don’t forget YOURSELF, the woman in you! Find time for yourself. Make time for one or two things that will enrich your life. Replenish yourself or you’ll have less to give to others.

I cannot complete my article without remembering the mother I have. My mother is the perfect role model for me. She has been there for her four children through good times, and trying times. She was there for us through each illness, and to cheer us on in competitions. She gave us enough freedom to find ourselves and become independent, yet set the boundaries to where we still felt safe in the world. Most of all she always had time for us for any and everything.

So I dedicate this article to my Mom, and to all the Moms out there with babies in your arms or in your hearts. May all of us continue to revel and take pride in the joy of motherhood!!!

http://parul206.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/06/the-joy-of-motherhood.htm

The resort was great and being completely new, the staff was pretty much standing on their heads to serve us. Most gratifying and highly recommended. The food was nothing short of outstanding, specially the one served at their fine-dining coastal restaurant. I think I will reserve the rest of my review for Trip Advisor. Do you people use Trip Advisor?

***

Adi has stared playschool. Or pre-playschool. Or pre-nursery. Or whatever it is that a thirteen month baby can attend. Essentially, it means that I accompany him to the school where he makes a mess with colors, dances to some music and plays with some blocks for an hour. All this is supposed to make him a super-achiever who can beat the pants off the kid-next-door at nuclear science.

I had serious doubts about this playschool business. For one thing, one of the teachers there kept referring to something called the ‘dwellupment’ of kids. Not to be a diction Nazi or anything but I’d like Adi’s teacher to be replicas of God. At the very least. So I was a tad disappointed. Also it was reasonably clear that the school had a profit orientation and was not in it for kids’ company and sweet smiles. That reminds me, have you read this? Fascinating stuff. Anyhow, turned out that I was worrying needlessly. Adi is quite happy pottering about at the place. He clings to me quite a bit. Part of it is his inherent shyness. The other part is that I am very cling-worthy.

http://orangeicecandy.blogspot.com/2008/06/alibaug-and-playschool.html