Author: Jenna Serignese

Mother of the Year

Sometimes, it feels like I have got this balance thing.  Our children are now 6 and 9 years old. We have hit a sweet spot – they no longer need us to fill every minute of their day.  They can amuse themselves, sometimes alone in their rooms, but often together, playing a board game, building a fort, having a Pokemon battle, pitching a whiffle ball.  We can get some housework or food prep done.  On occasion, we can even relax. The children are bright and energetic and thriving. I would see friends and family with toddlers and babies, diapers...

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The Best of Hartford

A few months back, Hartford Magazine ran a Readers’ Poll, inviting readers to vote for their favorite people, places and businesses in the Greater Hartford area.  The survey was quite a commitment.  It included more than 300 categories.  When the votes were tallied, CT Working Moms was the 2nd runner up for best blogger!  What a great honor, which only came about because of our amazing readers. Hartford Magazine then threw a big party for its winners, runner ups, and anyone in the community who wanted to celebrate.  It was a great excuse for me to dress up and...

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The Other 10 Years

Three years in a nursing home is endless. At first, she talked of going home. She knew me and my brothers. She enjoyed my children. She paced the corridors. Later, she stopped recalling names but still recognized my face. Then, her speech declined.

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10 Years

This month, it is ten years from the day when we committed ourselves to each other for a lifetime.   As a child of divorce, and of a parent who later became a divorce attorney with endless horror stories, I did not make this decision lightly. Neither one of my parents’ remarried, and while I had friends with seemingly happy families, I grew up without such stability and lacking the example of a healthy, loving adult relationship. So we took our time. Long after first meeting in the computer lab, and several years of dating, we somehow found ourselves...

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Living the Dream

It has been almost three years since my brothers and I brought my mother to her nursing home. As expected, in that time, she has greatly deteriorated. No longer feisty, she is complacent. No longer mobile, instead of wandering the halls, she sits in a wheelchair. Her speech is spotty at best. It is so hard. As she progresses, I find it more difficult to bring the kids. My nerves are heightened when I enter the locked wing, and while I seem to have endless patience with my mother, I am sometimes quick to overreact when my daughter is, well, being...

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