Tag Archives: Mother’s Day

Another Awesome Story About My Awesome Mom On Mother’s Day Eve

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. For some people, it’s just one of those Hallmark Holidays that requires that you purchase a card, make a phone call, and watch a few cheesy 1-800-Flowers ad. For those lucky enough to have an awesome mom like mine, it’s more than that.

I’ve said it before on multiple occasions. I’ll keep finding other ways to say it until the entire internet hears it.

My mom is awesome.

That is not in dispute. That’s just an objective fact on par with math and gravity. I knew that when I was still a kid. I know that now as a full-grown adult. With each passing year, I come to appreciate my mother’s awesome more and more. That makes celebrating Mother’s Day extra special.

For a mom like mine, a card just won’t cut it. Even during a pandemic, I’m going to find a way to go the extra mile to show my mom how much I love and appreciate her. As part of that effort, I’d like to share another personal story that further proves my mom’s greatness. If this doesn’t get the point across, then you’re just being difficult.

This particular story is small in scope, but incredibly revealing with respect to the kind of person my mother is. I don’t know if she’ll remember this. I know she reads this site every now and then. I hope she does because for me, it’s one of those powerful memories that has only gotten more meaningful with time.

The setting of this story is simple, but still requires a bit of context. It occurred when I was in my late teens. It was the middle of summer and I was home from college. For me, that didn’t just mean sitting around all day, waiting for the fall semester to begin. I worked during the summers. I was also expected to do chores on the weekends. One of them involved mowing the lawn.

Now, that was one of my least favorite chores and my mom knew that. I still did it, but was rarely thrilled about it. I need to establish that before I lay out what happened. It matters with respect to how this ordeal played out.

It occurred on a Saturday morning. I was downstairs in the basement, watching TV and working on my laptop, as I often did. Then, my mother comes walking down the stairs and she’s not in a good mood. It has nothing to do with what I or any of my siblings did. She’s just miserable, restless, and tense, as people can get for no apparent reason.

While in that mood, she tells me to mow the lawn and she’s not nice about it. She doesn’t ask me to do it. She doesn’t even say, please. She just tells me to do it in a crass, callous way that is not typical of my mother. It shows just how bad a mood she was in that day.

Naturally, I don’t react with much enthusiasm. I groan and roll my eyes, but it’s not just because I hate mowing the lawn. That’s not how anyone wants to be told to do something. My mother senses this, as I’m not subtle about it. Not surprisingly, goes off and tell me not to give her any attitude.

Then, in a response I honestly didn’t think much about, I tell her, in so many words, that she could’ve at least said please. She also could’ve been less rude about it. I even threw in a comment about how she’d taught me to be courteous and polite all my life. I don’t remember exactly what I said because, like I said, I didn’t give much thought to my response. A part of me still dreaded my mother’s response.

What happened next is a further testament to my mother’s character. Almost immediately, her crummy mood changed. She put her hand up, shook her head, and apologized. She acknowledged that she was rude and in the wrong. I instinctively accepted that apology. I still agreed to mow the lawn later that day and I did.

What stands out so much about that moment was how much humility my mother showed in that moment. I’m her son and she’s the parent. Usually, the dynamic is reversed. It’s the parent who’s supposed to call the child out when they’re being rude or impolite. When the roles are flipped, it doesn’t go the same way.

My mother was well within her right, as a parent, to just brush off my comment. She was also within her right to pile onto it and call me an asshole for daring to call her out like that. She could’ve just said, “I can talk to you however I want because I’m your mom. That’s that.” Instead, she chose the more respectable path.

She showed that she practiced the values she preached to me and my siblings. She holds herself to the same standard that she holds me. When she’s wrong or rude, she owns up to it. She takes responsibility and apologizes, just as she would expect of me if I were in that position. It was a small gesture, but I gained a whole new level of respect for my mother that day.

I know more than a few people whose parents take full advantage of their authority. To them, respect is not earned from a child. It’s a given, even when it’s not reciprocated. There are instances when that’s necessary, but this wasn’t one of them. My mother was self-aware enough to recognize that and set a better example. Since then, I’ve done my best to meet those standards.

There are so many other wonderful stories that I could share about my mother. Some are more elaborate than others. This one is small by comparison, but it’s those kinds of stories that help you really appreciate the kind of person someone is. My mother is wonderful in so many ways. This is just one of them. It’s part of what makes Mother’s Day worth celebrating.

To my awesome mom, I love you with all my heart.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, Uplifting Stories

Things Mothers Yell While Giving Birth: A (Hilarious) Way To Get Into The Mother’s Day Spirit

Mother’s Day is almost here. I know where in the midst of a global pandemic. I know most people aren’t in a very celebratory mood. If ever there was a reason or person for which we should make an exception, it’s our mothers. Even if you’re on lock-down, stir crazy, and badly in need of a haircut, we should still celebrate Mother’s Day.

They birthed us.

They raised us.

They changed our diapers, guided us through puberty, and have seen us at our absolute worst.

They’ve earned this. As someone who is lucky enough to have such an awesome mom, I have every intention of celebrating Mother’s Day in whatever way we can. It won’t be too fancy or elaborate, but I will find a way to make my mother feel special this Sunday. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

If you need inspiration, perhaps this will help. Like it or not, our mothers did give birth to us. We don’t like to picture it, but it did happen. There’s even a very real chance they said or did something during that magical moment that was disturbing, hilarious, or a potent combination of the two. This video, courtesy of Updoot Reddit, reveal some of the crazy and wonderful things that women said while giving birth. Enjoy!

Even if this video didn’t inspire you, I still encourage everyone to find a way to celebrate Mother’s Day. This year may suck. The world may be in chaos. We may never go back to the normal we knew, but we can still let our mothers know how much we love them.

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Filed under health, Marriage and Relationships, women's issues

A Personal Story About Mother’s Day And My (Awesome) Mom

Mother And Her Son Having Fun On The Beach

For many people, Mother’s Day is only a holiday for greeting card companies and florists. I understand that, to some extent. It can feel contrived, needing a holiday and an assortment of commercial products to celebrate the heroics of motherhood. It’s still worth celebrating, especially when you happen to have an awesome mother like mine.

I’ve gone out of my way to brag about how great my mom is on this site. I don’t just do that because she’s a regular reader. She really is that awesome. She was my first superhero. She brought me into this world, cared for me, nurtured me, and taught me the value of channeling your passions. It’s not an exaggeration to say that her love helped me become the man I am now.

I haven’t always made it easy on her, but she has always gone the extra mile. She always shows me love, even when I’m being difficult. She always tells me what I need to hear, even when I don’t want to hear it. I could be having a terrible day, lashing out at anyone and everyone around me for no reason. My mother would still show me love, no matter what.

I could tell story upon story that demonstrate why my mother is so wonderful, but in the spirit of Mother’s Day, I’d like to share one in particular that I feel gets the point across better than any card or flower. It’s a memory that she knows very well and one I know she also cherishes. In many ways, it reflects how difficult and how meaningful mothers can be.

This particular moment occurred on Mother’s Day years ago. I was still a kid in Elementary School, but I was at an age where I could do more for my mother than just give her a card. We’d made plans a week earlier about how we were going to spend Mother’s Day. I made her many promises. I was going to be the one to take care of her for once.

Then, on that fateful Sunday, I woke up feeling horribly sick. I’m not talking about a headache or one too many bowls of ice cream sick. I was running a 101-degree fever and throwing up. It was bad and on the worst possible day. Instead of me taking care of her on Mother’s Day, she ended up having to go the extra mile again, caring for a sick child.

By any measure, it’s not how a mother wants to spend Mother’s Day. Instead of cards and breakfast in bed, she had to take me to the doctors and clean up after me when I threw up. It could’ve been the worst Mother’s Day either of us had ever experienced. Instead, it ended up being one of the best.

That’s because, on that day, I gained a new appreciation for everything my mother did for me. This was supposed to be her day, but here she was, caring for me as any loving mother would. At no point did she ever show any frustration, anger, or resentment. She still tended to me with unconditional love, never hesitating to smile or do whatever she could to make me feel better.

It says a lot about her and about motherhood, in general. There are times when a mother has to step up, throw away her plans, and focus all her energy on her ailing child. It’s rarely convenient. It can even happen during the times when you most need a reprieve. Between me and my siblings, my mom certainly needed plenty. She still never hesitated to do right by her kids.

That fateful Mother’s Day was a disappointment on every level. In time, though, it became an oddly fond memory for both of us. I remember it because my mom was at her best during that day. The holiday didn’t matter. Caring for me when I was sick became her top priority and she did it as well as any grateful son could ask.

Even when she brings it up, she often smiles at the memory. I think she understands why that Mother’s Day stands out among the many that came before it. Instead of a celebration, she got a chance to vindicate the value of loving moms and she did so masterfully. She has every right to be proud of how she handled that day and I’m sure she is, even after all these years.

I don’t remember how long it took me to recover from whatever illness I had that day. What I do remember, though, is how important Mother’s Day became in the years that followed. Before, it had been a formality, of sorts. After that, I felt like I had to go the extra mile as well to show my mother how much I loved her and how much I appreciated her.

This year is no different. She knows I have plans to make this Mother’s Day as special as it should be. She also knows that I’ll always treasure that fateful Mother’s Day from years ago when everything went so wrong, but ultimately revealed just how much lover a mother can give to her child. It’s a beautiful thing and something for which I’m eternally grateful.

I hope this personal story inspires others out there to show their moms some extra love tomorrow. To my own mother, who I hope reads this at some point, you deserve all the love a son can give and then some.

Thank you for being so awesome.

Thank you for being the best mom a guy like me can hope for.

To all you other mother’s out there, thank you for filling this world with your love.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, women's issues

What My Mother Taught Me About Being A Better Man (With Roller Coasters)

roller-coaster-2

Whenever I get a little personal on this site, I often focus on two topics. One is how awful high school was for me. The other is how awesome my parents are. I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m bragging, but I’m just being honest and truthful. They really are that awesome and I intend to belabor that every chance I get.

As it just so happens, Mother’s Day is tomorrow and since I have such a wonderful mother, I’d like to share a personal story that I hope conveys a larger message about masculinity, in general. I promise this isn’t going to be another complex exploration about bogus topics like “toxic” masculinity or double standards. It’s just a simple story about my amazing mom and how she helped me grow into a better man.

There are a long list of stories I could share. Some of those stories I’m sure my mother would prefer I kept private. There are plenty others I’m sure my mom would love for me to share, if only to document some of the more memorable moments our family has shared over the years. Since I know she occasionally reads this site, I think she’ll agree that this is definitely one worth sharing.

That’s because it involves roller coasters. That’s not some elaborate metaphor. I’m dead serious. This is a story about me, my mother, and roller coasters. It’s kind of what it sounds like, but I promise it has other, more meaningful connotations that I think are wholly appropriate on the eve of Mother’s Day.

First, I need to provide a little context. This particular moment occurred when I was around ten-years-old. That’s relevant because that was the age when I was finally tall enough to ride most of the rides at amusement parks like Six Flags and Kings Dominion. As it just so happens, both are within a two hour drive of where we lived.

My mom, being the wonderful person she is, used that as opportunity to plan a day-long trip to Kings Dominion. I went with my younger brother, my aunt, and a cousin of mine. It was blazing hot, but being an energetic kid, I was too excited to care. I don’t even remember complaining with my mom urged me to put on extra sunscreen.

After spending about an hour just exploring the park, doing some small rides and playing some games, we came across a roller coaster that, to my 10-year-old mind, might as well have been Mount Everest. I’m not saying I was an overly fearful kid, but this was uncharted territory for me. My first instinct was not to go on such a ride.

To some extent, that was my default instinct to that point in my life. I know kids at that age can be both frustratingly reckless or annoyingly helpless with very little in between. It’s an age where kids still cling to the safety of their parents, but are just starting to feel that inclination to explore the world.

I was probably more reluctant than most kids my age. Both my parents and siblings would probably admit that I was a very self-disciplined kid, often to a fault. I did not like going out of my comfort zone and taking chances. I even complained when I had to, as kids are prone to do.

On that day at Kings Dominion, though, my mom gave me an extra push. She never shoved me or pressured me. She got encouraged me, getting excited about the ride so that I got excited too. Before long, that excitement overrode any fear or reservations I had. Thanks to that encouragement, I went on the ride with her and to this date, I feel like that was a pivotal moment in my young life.

At the time, though, it was just an incredible thrill. I loved it. I loved it even more than my mom promised. I remember getting off that ride, feeling dizzy and unable to stand. I probably looked like I was drunk, but I didn’t care. I had so much fun and so did my mom. We went on that ride again.

It was the first of many. From that day forward, my mother and I became the roller coaster aficionados of the family. Whenever we went to an amusement park, be it Kings Dominion, Six Flags, or Disney World, my mom and I would jump at the chance to ride the biggest, scariest ride. Sometimes friends, siblings, and cousins would join us. Other times, they would chicken out. My mom and I never did.

Those were wonderful times. They’re among some of the fondest memories I have with my mother as a kid. Beyond the thrills and adrenaline, though, I find those experiences had another effect on me. This effect was more personal, though. It also played a major part in the critical, yet often treacherous process of a kid growing into an adult.

By taking a chance on those roller coasters, doing something risky for once, my mom taught me a valuable lesson about being an adult and a man. She showed me that sometimes, we need to embrace a little danger. We need to leave the safety of the familiar and explore new, potentially hazardous experiences.

That kind of mentality takes both bravery and even a little foolishness. It’s a combination of traits often associated with masculinity, being willing and able to take those risks for new and exciting experiences. I’m not saying that men are the only ones who have such risk-seeking behavior. Women can be every bit as adventurous, as my mother so aptly demonstrated.

For me, the ten-year-old boy who still saw himself as such, those experiences marked the early steps of a more profound maturation process. It wasn’t just that I was now old enough and tall enough to ride all the roller coasters at most theme parks. I realized that my experiences didn’t just have to be kid-friendly experiences.

I could take chances, venture into once-forbidden areas, and explore life in ways I hadn’t dared. Doing that can be scary and sometimes requires a little encouragement, not unlike the kind my mother gave me that day at Kings Dominion. It can also be very rewarding, as the rush from an awesome thrill ride so wonderfully proves.

I was still a shy, reserved person, even as I entered adulthood. I still took longer than most to emerge from my shell. However, thanks to my wonderful mother and her loving encouragement to try out a few thrill rides, I understood what it meant to be an adult and a strong man.

To my mother, and all those wonderful mothers who encourage their children with the same love and care, I thank you. You helped teach me how to be brave, how to embrace the adult world, and how awesome roller coasters are. For that, I will be forever grateful. To her and to all the other mother’s out there, Happy Mother’s Day!

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Filed under gender issues, Jack Fisher's Insights

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Mother’s Day Edition

Today is a very special day. Today, we give thanks to the wonderful women who enjoyed having sex enough that they lovingly conceived us in their wombs. Yes, it’s Mother’s Day. Then again, anyone who willingly carries another human in their bodies for nine months deserves way more than just a card and breakfast in bed.

No matter how you spin it, moms are a big part of our lives. Why else would MILF porn be so popular? Moms give birth to us. Moms nurture us. Moms willingly let us suckle on their nipples and receive nourishment. They are the only ones who can actually make tits more amazing than they already are. That’s an accomplishment.

I love my mom. I try to make that love and appreciation clear every time I see her. She’s been a wonderful influence on me my whole life. Considering that I was miserable, self-loathing little shit at times, I can’t help but marvel at the breadth of such love. She really is that amazing. No offense to Gal Gadot, but she is the real Wonder Woman of my life.

She knows what I do. She’s been very encouraging since I began writing all those years ago. She, my father, and my family have given me more support than I ever could’ve hoped for as I pursue my dream of being an erotica/romance writer. So to my mom and all the other wonderful moms out there, I thank you.

As such, I’m proud to dedicate this week’s edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts to my mom and all the other moms out there. Thank you for giving us life. Thank you for having the sex that conceived us. We hope that was an especially satisfying experience, just as I hope these crude comments are especially funny.


“The sight of boobs makes boys hungry as babies. The sight of boobs makes men act stupid as adults. Does that count as irony?”

https://i0.wp.com/www.capitalfm.co.ke/campus/files/2013/07/breastspeep.jpg

I’m not sure if this counts as irony or a paradox. Maybe it’s a fluke of biology or part of some deep-seated psychological imprint that develops in the minds of men. Maybe it’s just our caveman brain’s inability to differentiate between hunger and horniness, which I’ve talked about before.

Whatever the case, the results are the same. Boobs make baby boys hungry. Boobs make grown men act stupid. When I was in New York City last year, I walked past a number of topless women in Times Square. I could feel my brain power temper so that it could process the beauty of expose breasts. Ironic or not, men think boobs are awesome at any age is what I’m saying.


“Those who say sex is an itch that needs to be scratched has clearly never had a nasty mosquito bite on their balls.”

I’d rather not go into too much detail about this. There’s a reason I know what it feels like to have a mosquito bite on unusual parts of my body. I do not want to tell that story. I’ll just say that those who make light of a mere itch are woefully misinformed about how sensitive certain parts of their body really are.


“Massages can be equally sexy for both genders, but they’re always more messy for one gender in particular.”

https://i0.wp.com/cdn.skim.gs/image/upload/v1456342060/msi/couple-massage_ckfz3n.jpg

Who doesn’t love a good sensual massage? It’s one of the few sexy acts that can be both deeply romantic and overtly pornographic. It has everything you need for sex appeal. There’s intimate touching, relaxing sensations, and plenty of potential for romantic affection.

If done right, a massage can be an orgasmic experience and then some. That said, it can get messy, especially if you’re very generous with the massage oil. It also tends to get messy for one particular gender, namely the one that requires tissues and baby wipes. It’s just basic biology.

Ask anyone who’s had to clean up that mess though. They’ll say it’s worth it.


“A man can’t say he’s in love with a woman until he willingly buys her tampons. A woman can’t say she’s in love with a man until she willingly fixes a toilet he clogged.”

https://i0.wp.com/static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/Tampon_Run_Picture1_8555.jpg

There are many ways to test just how in love you are with your partner. Having similar tastes in movies, food, and underwear certainly help, but true intimacy can sometimes manifest in less obvious ways.

The way I see it, if you’re willing to accept the less flattering traits of someone, then your love definitely has some meat to it. A man who buys feminine hygine products and a woman who deals with a man’s bathroom habits can rightly claim they’ve achieved a level of intimacy that goes beyond rubbing body parts together.


“A true test of trust is letting someone else shave your pubic hair.”

https://i0.wp.com/www.shefinds.com/files/2015/06/bikiniline.jpg

Think about it. Shaving your nether regions is a dangerous and risky endeavor. One wrong move and your weekend is ruined, among other things. It’s hard enough to trust your own hands to tend to your most sensitive body parts. Trusting someone else to do it takes something special. It’s actually kind of romantic when you think about it.


“When a woman flashes her tits outside a strip club, is it undermining the efforts of hard-working strippers or does it count as free advertising?”

http://assets.nydailynews.com/polopoly_fs/1.2031384.1417609688!/img/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/article_750/ambulance4n-3-web.jpg

This kind of confuses me. When I was in Las Vegas, there was a topless woman giving out flyers for a strip club. She had great tits herself so it seemed kind of redundant. Why advertise for something in a way that gives the customer what they want from the outset?

Then again, maybe it was a free sample of sorts. Maybe that woman understood that when a man sees one pair of tits, he wants to see more. In that sense, her ploy was pretty brilliant.


“Would prostitution be less taboo if they were reclassified as sexual trainers?”

https://i0.wp.com/www.zerohedge.com/sites/default/files/images/user5/imageroot/prostitutes.jpg

There are all sorts of taboos surrounding prostitution. When you’re the world’s oldest profession, the simple law of averages ensure it’s bound to happen. I get why women wouldn’t want their lovers to see prostitutes. It works the other way too. I’m sure men don’t want their girlfriends drooling over male strippers.

So rather than make this another source of conflict, why not turn it into something productive? Why not reclassify prostitutes, male and female alike, as trainers with which we refine our sex skills? The prostitutes get money. Ordinary people are trained by professionals to make love to our partners more effectively. Everybody wins.


Once again, thanks to all the moms out there for being the wonderful women they are. If you can, do something special for the woman that bore you. She’s more than earned it.

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