my mother taking care of his younger brother. In fact - 灌水专区 -
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my mother taking care of his younger brother. In fact
She picked up a few pounds of waste one week
They help parents make the kids meal for two weeks, said it is hard to know the parents, trying to help them share a little
There are parents place is home. The annual Spring Festival, there will be some &little birds&,,, flew to Nanjing and New Year with my parents. Yesterday, the Modern Express Reporter survey found that many parents stick in Nanjing, work also busy than usual, there is no time to spend, take care of &little birds&, on the contrary, a lot of &little birds& for parents to do things people & tears &: 14-year-old boy to help mom and dad attached done half of rice, 14-year-old girl for a week at home to pick up a few hundred pounds of waste. Modern Express reporter FINANCE AND text / photo
To Nanjing These days, she did not go out Played
In two Qinhuai District No. 33, Lane, the reporter found a &little birds& Snow (nickname). 14 years old, she obviously stature than their peers to be short a lot, met a stranger,, looking sheepish.
&She was a person in the home,, can not bear to buy her grandparents estimate delicious.& Ms. Mu mom distressed children,, but very helpless.
Snow has a brother,, seven years ago,, had nephrotic syndrome,, go to the hospital every month. In order to give his brother the doctor, my father stay in Nanjing to work, my mother taking care of his younger brother. In fact, my mother has looked for work,, but her eyes were not good,, almost blind, can not find suitable.
Parents always want to receive snow Nanjing reading, but they really can not afford,, then the burden of a child to school in Nanjing. Therefore, only a year when the winter break, the snow to get to Nanjing to reunite with my parents.
Snow is very quiet. To Nanjing These days, she did not go out played. Parents know that economic pressure, she quietly picked up at temporary waste.
In their temporary residence, the reporter saw several snakeskin bag of plastic bottles, as well as piles of cardboard boxes, waste paper.
&During the Spring Festival,, more cartons.& Ms. Mu said that every day in the snow near several area around and see other people thrown into the dustbin of plastic bottles, cardboard boxes or something,, she has to retrieve a week picking up there a few hundred pounds.
In addition to picking up waste,, snow have helped her mother wash the dishes every day. These days, she is also preparing to pick up points and more waste, because in a few days she was going back home, and want to help my mother can offer up.
An afternoon stroll,, just a bunch of sugar-coated haws
When the contact , tears on her face yet dry. Just off her two sons, walking and crying children, she could not bear the way followed by tears.
Bai Lianzhen Anhui, is currently in a bar do cleaning. 19:00 to go to work every day, has to work the next day home from work until 3:00.
husband is also cleaning staff, in order to make more money, in addition to eight hours of his work, but also to apply for overtime, 3:00 to go out every day sweeping,, has been busy evening at eight o'clock came back.
had two sons, one 14-year-old, a 5-year-old, usually in the home with her grandmother. January 19, two children a winter break, could not wait to come to Nanjing.
They want Mom and Dad,.
However, Bailian Zhen and her husband do not have time to spend with his son. &To be honest very ashamed.&&&said that during the Spring Festival, she and her husband are busy, the eldest son is very sensible, cook their daily meal, choose a good clean food.
Yesterday, her husband just wanted to go home, Bai Lianzhen would want him back home to two children together. To compensate for the lack of love, the day before yesterday afternoon, she decided to play with the two children to the Confucius Temple.
Little kids clothes, especially the eldest son, as tall tall,, currently it can wear on a pair of pants. Originally,,, she wanted to give him to buy two, one can see the clothes are not cheap, looked a long time to be willing to buy one, she consoled himself &some change on the line.& Son sensible people get distressed, an afternoon stroll, just like my mother to be a bunch of sugar-coated haws. 5-year-old son is also very honest, he did not eat, just like a mother to a printed pattern Wolf balloon.
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民祥建材网（.cn）专注于水暖建材行业门户网站，是专业的大型建材B2B+B2C电子商务平台！专业提供建材行业新闻资讯、建材供求商机、建材招商代理、建 ...On a snowy morning in college, I sat up on my futon, stared out the dorm window, and nudged my boyfriend Chris. “What would you think about our children having my last name?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, still half-asleep, “Why wouldn’t they have your last name?”
I was probably too shy then to show my relief.
Time passed. We split up for a year, got married ten years later and then, in our mid-30’s, found ourselves with a babe on the way. We didn’t know girl or boy, but we had already re-decided that our babe’s last name would be my last name. Mixing up convention had always mattered to me. Chris also liked the sound of it better, with his last name as a middle name.
It didn’t feel revolutionary to us. It felt normal.
At four months pregnant, when people asked if we’d chosen a first name, we shared our last name choice instead. Neither of us expected any drama. Our far flung and nearby communities had always been open-minded. That’s why the shockwave shocked us.
My younger brother started it off by asking me how Chris felt about being emasculated. He was joking, and he did apologize about it later, but I couldn’t help wonder if he somehow represented all the men who might feel emasculated by our choice. My mother, always a supporter, just sighed. “Well,” she said, “Just be ready for the responses. Your child might have some trouble on the playground.”
“Trouble on the playground?” I laughed.
She started to explain, backing right back into the conservative Catholic upbringing she’d spent years amending, that the others might tease her/him for being different. I lobbed back that if that’s the worst thing my child gets teased for then we’re doing okay, and then she asked how Chris’s parents felt about this choice, as if we needed permission from them. But, after twenty minutes of back and forth, she had launched herself over to my side, huffing and puffing her best you-go-girl speech. “You’re right! Why shouldn’t your child have your name? You’re the one who actually has to give birth.”
As my belly grew, the comments got even stranger. I had secretly hoped for no reaction, for our choice to be as common as saying, “I went with the mustard instead of the ketchup.” No reaction would mean something good, right? That women in this country are, for example, no longer considered the property of men, even in name. That archaic systems are truly collapsing. That we can reclaim language that was formerly used to control us.
But it seemed, at least to me, that using a woman’s last name for a child threatened everyone. An older woman asked me if I was doing this to make a point. Why was all this doing perceived as mine, not my husband’s as well? At a party, a peer told me she was “diehard Obama” and then argued that her only real concern about using a woman’s last name is that you risk the ease of preserving lineage and historical records.
“Really?” I kept responding.
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