A Cup of Comfort for Single Mothers
Chauffeur. Chef. Referee. Confidante. Provider. As a single mother, you balance these roles and
dozens more every day-so take a break with A Cup of Comfort for Single Mothers.
In this empowering and bittersweet collection, you
will meet single mothers who have created an unbreakable bond with their sons and daughters. From a woman who never misses one of
her son's games-despite being the only single mother in the stands-to a new single mom whose three-year-old daughter provides comedic
relief after a less-than ideal first date, these women will inspire and encourage you.
It's never easy to raise children alone. But
in this heartwarming volume, you'll find inspiration and joy in the stories of fifty amazing women just like you-parenting on their
own and doing it exceptionally well.
Coming Spring 2010
A CUP OF COMFORT FOR FATHERS
Humorous Contribution
by Minnette Meador
YES, SIR, DADDY DARLING, SIR (SALUTE TWICE)
STAY
TUNED!
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Each Cup of Comfort anthology is filled to the brim with uplifting personal stories about the extraordinary
experiences of "ordinary" people. We hope you'll enjoy this small sampling, from several of our most popular volumes.
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Copyright (C) - All rights reserved
EXCERPT:
SUNDAY BREAKFAST by Minnette Meador
No ruckus came from the bedroom shared by my three darling little
boys, ages five, three, and three. Of course, that was a complete impossibility, especially on a Sunday morning at 6:00 a.m. I hadn’t
slept passed 5:30 a.m. on any morning since my oldest had let out his first breath—actually, not since thirty six hours before that.
To this day, I couldn’t tell you what woke me that Sunday morning. Despite claims to the contrary in studies
and countless books on child development, the thing that frightens parents most—more than midnight calls from the hospital, swan dives
from the roofs of pickup trucks, or locked bathroom doors—is the sound of absolute silence wherever one or more children are near
but out of sight. I knew instantly something was terribly wrong as my parental extra-sense went into overdrive.
“Boys?” I called tentatively, my heart racing and the silence making my ears ache. It’s amazing how quickly adrenaline can get you
going in the morning; coffee is a weak second-rater, if you ask me.
I got out of bed, grabbed my robe, stubbed
my foot on the nightstand just for laughs, and then knocked over the double-crossing baby monitor. That’ll teach ya!