My mother tried to teach me when I was a small child to sing but failed because of my inability to carry a tune.
I'm a mother with two small children, so I don't take as much crap as I used to.
Both my grandmother and mother used to wear the Red Roses cologne, and when I was 21 or 22, I smelled the same scent on a friend of mine.
My mother worked in a chocolate factory, so when I came home from school, I had a piece of baguette with dark chocolate in it. I remember her smelling like chocolate.
I'd seen all the great entertainers by the time I was 14 or 15. My mother was artistic. My father was a bookmaker, so he had access to all those nightclubs, and he was smitten by certain artists, and we would go see them. We'd see comics like Sid Caesar and Milton Berle - those kind of artists - many of whom I worked with later in my life.
I never smoked in my life. Neither did my mother. And so many women I meet whose mothers or aunts or whoever who have gotten lung cancer were no-time smokers.
I'm part of the tribe who have said goodbye to one parent and are feeling a sense of responsibility for the one who remains - in my case, my mother. How do I make her time smoother, happier? How do I try to ease her, a widow, away from the dark well of grief without dishonoring the necessity of that grief?
My mother had seven children in seven years. No twins. She also had a three-legged beagle who was compelled to bite strangers, a freakishly big double-pawed tomcat who regularly left dead rabbits on the front doorstep, and 70 white mice that one or another of us had smuggled home from my father's research laboratory.
My mother was able to get out of Germany because her father was Russian and those with a Russian passport could leave. My father was not so fortunate. He had to be smuggled out of Germany by being tied to the bow of a vegetable freighter that was leaving in the North Sea. He almost lost a leg because it was so cold, but he ended up in France.
I think I said something mean when I was little, and my mother snapped on me. I was just like, 'I'm sorry!' I could relate. If I had cursed out my dad, I probably would be just waking up.
I do have a nickname with my family; I'm called Snappy, because I do get to be a bit snippy at times. They call me Snappy Bear. That's from New Hampshire. My dad's called Crazy, my mother's Happy - it's a whole thing.
Even if they're not Asian or super rich... everyone has a nagging mother. Everyone has that obnoxious uncle, or that cousin who's a bit too snobby.
When I heard Edward Snowden's story, it reminded me of my mother in a strange way. She was in the French resistance from early on, 1941. At that time, the Resistance were considered troublemakers - even traitors - in France.
Mother's Day, like motherhood itself, is fraught with peril. There are so many ways to get it wrong, so many opportunities to disappoint and be disappointed.
As an entrepreneur and mother, I support the need to put women at the center, recognizing their crucial impact on social development and their important role of balancing family and professional responsibilities.
I was aware of it, but I grew up in a very a-religious family. My mother never went to church, she never had any religious training or background. It was never a part of our social interaction.
Tenderness has created the first 'social order' - that of the mother with her offspring. Through motherliness, woman later makes her great contributions to civilization.
I'm from a very politically and socially conscious family. My mother always made a point of making us look at what was going on around us and take stock of our part in it.
There is a societal cost of increased pollution, and that's what I'm passionate about as a mother.
Paid leave is a not just a mother and child issue, it's a societal issue we have.
