The Beauty of Chaos

Some days Slayer (my dog) refuses to walk with us. If Mike is home, Slayer won't choose to leave him. But if I force him to come he seems mad. He sits his butt down, trying to persuade me not to take him. If I pull and pull, eventually he gets in line with the others and enjoys the walk. Sometimes this scenario reminds me of my parent's divorce.

I would just rather forget all those YEARS- yes years - of the custody fighting. Neither of them could let it go.  Sometimes I wanted to make them both happy, but I couldn't. They made me choose. Oh and what a choice for an eleven-year-old.

Most of me, of course, wanted a say in my life. With things changing so rapidly around me - things like schools, houses, weekend plans- I just wanted a place to settle in. But the hurt in choosing I'll never forget. I'll never forget how hard I worked just to build up both parents. The burden for a child who thinks it's her job to fix two warring souls is heavy.

But I'm no different than many children who feel they have to parent their own parents. Many times adults rely on children to offer a much needed fresh perspective; however, too much personal information laid on a child's shoulders negates exactly what parents are sometimes seeking- the lightness of being, a way to wade through the heaviness of responsibility, regret, remorse, remembering, resentment. To make a child feel like a marriage counselor, a family divider, a judge exploits a child's innocence.

Compassion seeks answers. Sometimes the answers provide a safe distance for a child to still love things that no longer look and feel the same. Sometimes the answers build walls that will forever be in place.

I offer them forgiveness. Forgiveness for an excruciating time in their lives. A time of chaos, disruptions, and looming uncertainty. A time of dismantling institutions in which their lives were built upon, namely marriage and religion.

The crumbling of those two pillars in their life and mine were a welcomed reality. Something beautiful looms under the rubble. And I am here to testify to the lessons learned.

Some of those lessons are still covered in my soul - waiting to be unearthed at the right time. Some of these lessons are undoubtedly the tightest held secrets of my parenting style held close to my heart. I heard you universe. And I always learn my lessons. It's too painful to not, to re-experience the loss of innocence, the remorse of not having the right answers, and the heaviness of choosing.

I remember not wanting to choose. I remember not wanting to go along with what felt like manipulation.  And I fought it. I was an angry child for a long time. 

I had no words to express the above. I had no way of describing to either of them my absence of authority in their problems. I wanted to scream, "Just cut me in half!" Didn't the Bible teach me the real mother (or in this case the true parent) would ultimately give up their claim so the child could live? But that didn't happen. The dismantling continued.

I couldn't count on anyone to help me. My life was a barrage of new faces holding authority, doing what they thought was the in best interest of me - none of them knowing me more than five minutes. But they all knew what I should do. None of them offered my family what would benefit us all the most- true therapeutic counseling.

As I pulled Slayer along this morning, all these thoughts hammered against my breastbone and my brow. He, too, probably resents me making him walk when Dad is still at home. His job is to protect both of us, and it's hard for him to do when we're separated. But I kept pulling him, reminding him we will be home soon and Dad will be just fine.

No one told me this through the divorce. No one reassured me that this too shall pass, that they both will emerge better people and better parents through this. It would of helped me I think. It would have helped to teach me to trust the transition that change brings, to trust the process.

I know now we are now a better family because of the divorce. It worked for us. 

But I am still haunted by the child who got forced to choose, who got pulled along without reason while she was trying to sit still, who got her innocence mournfully reduced to an authority when she was only eleven.

To argue what should of been done is immature. To sit around thinking of all the ways my parents could have been better is harvesting arrested development. To articulate, to understand is to heal. People do need to know when something hurts you, but to blame without compassion does not bring relief. 

Calling out all the shoulds does not feel right to me. Am I still parenting them as I recount the lesson? Or am I simply recognizing the truth in the situation. A truth that I hope my son will learn too- parents are not infallible. And many times children's wisdom grows due to the parent's inabilities.

I think that's one of the neatest things in the world. We parents offer up our vulnerabilities to make our children's lives better and their emotional intelligence wiser, even if it seems like chaos at the time. Alongside the breakdown, we must teach them to reassess their life, taking stock of all the lessons learned. We must show them through living it ourselves. In the end, it's a beautiful thing.

Giving Away Our Authority

Today I can't get rid of this feeling of being muted while screaming my views in my head.

My pediatrician is a believer in Ferberizing. I simply am not. I feel babies cry to communicate, cry to let us know something isn't right. Yet, with the Ferber method, a parent "eases" them into self-soothing at bedtime. That simply goes against what I feel is right for me.

Yes, he still sleeps in the bed with us since he was six months and out of his bassinet. The fear of rolling on him suffocating him is gone for me.  Yes, I still breastfeed. Yes, both the baby and I are getting the best sleep since he was born. He hardly stirs, nurses, then falls back to sleep - most nights. This is what works for my family.

Some things that have shaped my view on co-sleeping:

• Affects Infants Physiology Positively

• Gives Infants More Self-Esteem

• Provides Infants Protection from SIDS

From the Mother Baby Behavioral Sleep Lab of Notre Dame

http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/sleep-problems/scientific-benefits-co-sleeping

http://www.marksdailyapple.com/co-sleeping-risks-benefits/#axzz2ebc4uXcZ

Well since he was six months, my pediatrician expressed I needed to put him in his own room to sleep. At each check-up, her pressing regarding his sleeping arrangement became worse. Today's visit was no exception - it was the first question she asked and she continued to drill me for the first 15 minutes about it. I felt like she was not going to let it be - her questions were direct and assuming.

And here's the thing- I knew what to do. I knew it in the whole fiber of my being. I should have told her my beliefs on the matter- discussing the research that I have found which supports my views, and finally said that while I value her medical viewpoint, I am the parent here, and this is what works for my family. I can have a differing view then my pediatrician, but I guess somewhere in my soul I couldn't deny her as an authority figure. I've always been taught that others - especially those who have spent thousands on an education that society values or those who have the loudest voice - are more right than myself.

This misappropriation of power seems a current theme in my life lately, and that's why I had such a reaction to the situation.

 I think there might be a morsel of truth in the mundane interactions of a stop light, a bit of truth to use in examining our life deeper. Do you look directly at the stoplight or simply follow the car in front of you for your cue to move ahead?

I look at the light. And then I will look at the car ahead of me to make sure it starts moving before I do. I do both.

I have to check everything out for myself. I research every little thing (thank you internet). Hence, I research if the light has changed before the car ahead of me goes. (Most of the time they're texting and their choice delays my life.)

But just because the rest of the cars are edging up, allowing the least amount of space between cars doesn't mean the light has changed. If I was just following the car in front of me, I might just go without looking at the light.

Sometimes following the people of ahead of you - be it at a traffic light or an experienced parent - may have become an unconditioned response. I don't want that for my life.

Is this happening with my parenting decisions?

With the pediatrician, do I just lie or do I take the time to explain my beliefs? I felt something was off in our conversation. Does the doctor think she holds all the power here - the power to make choices for my child that I myself are more than qualified to make? I realize many of the parents that visit her are completely unprepared for all the choices one has to make when a child is born and probably make some bad decisions. But I do my homework! And my soul, mind, and body told me what I should have done.

So, here's the point - my advice is to never let anyone else make an intimate choice for you - even if they seem like the authority on the issue.  You are an authority on what works best for you! And never let anyone else make you feel bad for what you know is right in your heart and gut. And also, take the time to become knowledgeable regarding the choices you make - don't make situations like these a place for faulty rebellion. Instead use this a chance to honor yourself, a place to listen to your authentic self, allowing your researched choices to hold weight in your own mind.

But, here's also the point- I never once asked her why she felt the way she did. Maybe she lost a baby co-sleeping. Maybe she made it her mission as a doctor to never let a baby die that way. Maybe she was shaming me into validating the way she parented. I don't know. But I do know I was so concerned trying to work out the best reasons in my head and be able to counter other reasons she might bring up, I lost my authority as a compassionate person who shares the floor while communicating.

I'm working on finding the balance between maintaining my values while at the same time listening and weighing someone else's opinion without losing my self.  Relying on my inner guidance, I am remembering my authority as a parent who knows my child the best, participating as an equal in finding the right path for my family to take.

Fatherhood in Children's Books

I have been on the lookout even before Larsen was born for books and toys that feature mom and dad. I am overjoyed to find children's books that mention fathers as sweet, loving, and involved caretakers as much as mothers and a few toys that have an image of fathers on the packaging.

As much as we laud motherhood, which we should be doing- damn, it's an intense job, we also need to be noticing the effort that many men are producing in the household as well. We've complained fathers need to be doing more for their kids, but now we need to applaud them and recognize them as an essential part of a child's life. And this means having their presence in quality media in which our children are exposed.

The high repetition of bedtime stories should concern us- what messages are we sending when we read these books over and over and over again? That only moms are in the stories with the children? Where's dada?

Children need to see an involved father from birth. While a child may be getting this message simply because his dad is around, the stories that are helping build his imagination need this message as well.

I dare you to pick up any book or toy for a young baby. Look at the packaging/marketing and/or wording. For the most part, it's the mother sharing the toy or sitting right next to him while the child holds it or either the book says something along the lines,   "Goodnight baby, Mommy loves you." No mention of daddy verbally or physically.

Am I overcomplicating a small issue? No. Do I think every toy or book should have both mom and dad? No. That's a bit extreme. I understand most are marketing for mothers who may still be doing all the buying. However, I do expect to see more of a balance in marketing to parents.

I truly believe we build the standards in our world by being consciously or unconsciously involved in the cycle of media. Mother's may buy based on seeing our image confirmed on the package. We may be delighted to act out those little vignettes from the package at home - matter of fact, it's what we may unconsciously feel is the right way to be a mother because of the ubiquitous imagery with which we are bombarded. We get REASSURANCE through our purchase.

Yet, fathers may NOT buy because they ONLY see mothers, thinking it's a no-men zone, thus reinforcing parenting is ultimately a feminine pursuit. If men don't see it, they can't be it. And why would anyone want to be something not held up as important? Low visibility equals not valued.

Father's would start buying more children's items if they saw items marketed with fatherhood in mind. Children would see from the start images of an involved father and thus the standard that fatherhood is important takes root in our child.

Some businesses are catching on, which I love to see! They will have a mom on front and the dad on back. He's there, so I'm hopeful we will keep moving in the right direction.

Here are some of my favorite books:

Lullaby and Goodnight

One can click through the book and see the images of dad helping - putting away toys and laundry! The page of him saying "Lullaby and Goodnight, Papa's kisses are near" isn't shown, but so great to see in a children's book!

Daddy's Kisses

I love this one too because little Larsen is learning that affection from a man is normal (unless he's a Catholic priest or lives in a van down by the river).

Here's one toy I've seen advertised with a father directly one the front:

Follow Me Fred

Check out Diaperdude.com - A line of diaper bags just for dad!

While there are several books/toys about fathers being  "active" (i.e. playing sports) with their sons, there isn't many I've seen that relay these vital messages to both girl and boy children: fatherhood is important, father's are expected to be a part of children's lives from the get-go, father's can have intimate and loving relationships with their children, father's are caretakers of both the home and family as well.

Yes, it's sad that one way our expectations get formed is through our consumerism; yet, it's a reality- one in which awareness helps guide better decisions for our children, allowing them many opportunities to see and hear the varied roles they will come to value.

The Powerful Humility of Mothers

I keep reading over and over again the blog on Motherhood from the Desiring God website (here, here, and here). There are so many things I utterly agree within those beautiful words; yet, one thing reverberates off the page every time I sit down to deeply reflect on the notions presented there: unnecessary sacrifice.

Within the blog, I see elements of the the martyr complex. With the martyr complex, people seek out suffering or persecution to fill a psychological need.  In some cases, their need to feel highly significant in this chaotic world results in believing this way. In shorthand, they believe their suffering is a direct result of being chosen by God. Blogs like these read to me as thinly veiled attempts to seek out some kind of ego boost concealed under "religious duty." For me, this exploits religion in order to fill the ego.

This blog seems to strike me in this way. It uses sacrificial motherhood as glorified persecution in order to illustrate they are on the track to godliness, thus they more are remarkable than other humans. But I don't think the writer/readers even recognize this.

While I agree with many things about motherhood this blog states, it leaves much to be desired for me.

There is no doubt in my mind that motherhood involves immense sacrifice - the sacrifice of our personal time, the sacrifice of our bodies, the sacrifice of our mental peace, and most of all, the sacrificing of our heart's walls, moving us beyond our comfort level when loving another.

But for me, I need more than the sacrificial motherhood descriptor. Call it my pride or my trial to get closer to God - label it whatever you need to in order to be comfortable with me not believing exactly what you believe.

Nevertheless, for me, beyond sacrifice, motherhood requires advocation, personal power, and humility. What I mean is while yes, sacrificing one's life for another is the most unselfish act in the universe, but being a mother is not that. We don't wither up and die as soon as we birth a child. We don't lay down our whole lives for our children - we still have needs and wants we act upon. This is what I am writing about today- blogs like these proclaiming it as our religious duty to suffer as mothers.

This particular blog states sacrifice it the highest quality mothers can have. And indeed, mothers will sacrifice! Yes, we mothers need to accept the personal restriction that comes with the reality of motherhood. This is a good point for me.

But I never hear these blogs talk about asking for help from others. Instead, they admonish mothers to graciously accept the banality and then glorify this position through language by using terms such as: "a calling", "what God gave women time for", "strategically situated as mothers in your missionary field".

And although, you may feel this pronounces your reality completely, I feel let down. I feel it puts the complete responsibility of parenting directly on women, and ultimately, it limits our connection with others and our children's connection with others. It tells women to be gatekeeper parents, and it admonishes us for wanting more avenues beyond motherhood to find peace and happiness.

Yes, there are aspects of motherhood that "sanctify" us- i.e. make us less selfish - again, I agree with this point. Taking care of a pet or a child will certainly cause us to reduce our self-serving agenda (well, one hopes).

Often the solution provided in these blogs is more prayer. If prayer works for you, keep doing it! I want all mothers struggling with these issues to do all in their power to increase their happiness.

But when I pray/meditate for more help, I don't receive it.

I don't receive it because outsiders don't get the message. If I walk around with a smile on my face while cleaning up the house for the third time that day, believing this is how God challenges me, no one around understands my strain.

Indeed, we have more direct approaches to help besides prayer that sometimes we miss or encouraged to not utilize.

We have brains, mouths, and families for a reason too.

It's is not wise or helpful to throw ourselves under the sacrificial motherhood train dutifully.  I'm worried doing so teaches our children to be victims also.

Developing personal awareness, accepting things we can't control, yet also asking for help may be lessons we must learn through motherhood as well.

That being said- it takes advocating for ourselves to highlight the amount of work it takes to be a mother. The blog and I agree here.

It requires personal power to focus one's attention while navigating through development of another human while prioritizing one's own free time. Yes, we both agree on this too.

But most importantly, it demands humility to ask for help with this never-ending job. Blogs like these seem to miss this most vital point.

I have power to change my circumstances and stop being a victim. Maybe God wants us to use all the things available to us to increase our joy.

Another way to think about it is this: In most jobs, your complaints must be filed by the appropriate chain of command. Maybe prayer skips to the highest person in command, thus disregards the channels of power you have right in front of you. There are many other ways to change your circumstance then sitting around, convinced this simply is your cross to bear.

It takes lobbying my partner for help. It takes digging deeper to find more grit to keep doing the mundane things. It takes humility to accept and admit to others I need help.

Maybe we are getting more caught up in this idea that as mothers we are way more special than we were before children.

We may already be close to God, we may already have a strong bond there.  Perhaps what we need more is to work on creating that type of relationship with those around us. Maybe we have forgotten we have free will. And using this free will doesn't mean we will use it unjustly. It may mean taking personal responsibility for your own happiness. It just may make you a better mother, your partner a better father, the people around you closer.

Motherhood - beyond this type of sacrificial motherhood some blogs describe - allows moments of power through humility (not victimhood) as we mothers open the arena for fathers to be intimate parents, for grandparents to feel joy through the cycle of life, for friends to experience closeness beyond romantic attachments, and - most of all- for our children to understand while they are special, they also are eternally connected to others. 

On My First Mother's Day...

Being a mother is about the manageability of a tension. 

It is so weighty to love something so much that you want to spend every waking moment with him and the twenty minutes it takes you to pick up the dogs at the groomer depresses you a little because you're afraid you'll miss something cute while he's with Grandma. You just constantly stare at this little thing you and your husband made. You search his fingers and toes for constant growth - the little baby fat that used to be crowded around those appendages is thinning out and you're excited and worried at the same time. You rub his little baby hairs noticing how much thicker it is. You cringe inside at every moment because now that moment is gone and he's growing so fast. You remind yourself - "Remember this moment forever- sear his little look right now into my heart because he's gone soon." Your eyes are so tired from tracing his miniature silhouette as you imagine one day he'll come home from second grade and give you his little outlined profile as a mother's day present. You again cringe. Gone so fast. Gone so fast. That's all people tell you. It feels so pit of your stomach to love something this much it actually does hurt. You look at him as he starts to walk and grabs your hand. His little baby hand only wants yours. You are his safeguard. The love, the love, the love that abounds out of your heart breaks it. It widens it so much that it's scary - you never knew having a child would make your days brighter, your career a pipe dream, your body a novelty.

Beyond the adoration and the continual remembering lies isolation, boredom, and loneliness. The monotony of the day, the endless location changes (nursery, living room, outside and then over and over again throughout the day) the monitoring for eaten leaves - eaten anything, the ever changing of baby toys - which one will capture his attention now, the repetitive songs you have made up as you go along through the day, the cycling rift in your head that constantly declares how underwhelming this all is for an adult wears one down. I wish I could be one of those insanely creative mothers that has the whole day planned with little age appropriate and skill building activities. And then my mind goes to the never-ending comparison to other mothers who seem like they actually got it together because they always have make-up and a smile. Why didn't I get out of bed, jog, shower, and prepare for my day? Why don't I Pinterest activities for a 8 month old that look fun? Then I remind myself we did water day two days ago- I filled different pots with water and different kitchen cups and bath toys. I mean I let the kid play with a silicone kitchen brush to paint with water! We are doing stuff! But it's all just work! It's exhausting. It's the personal restriction and its the restructuring of the brain- no longer collegiate and academic but imaginative and creative for an infant.

So you have this exhilarating, fall in love, floating on air feeling because you have this new creation before you with all the love and connection and tenderness and then you have this persistent, mind-numbing, literal seventeen pound weight you are responsible for as well. This light and heavy is built into all the nooks and crannies of motherhood. There's no separating the two. We carry both in all the good and in all the challenging.

You know it will end too soon- you do and you don't want it to.

Motherhood and Household Duties

I remember when I was a nanny for a young boy during one summer. He was the youngest of two siblings. His parents both worked full time at jobs they loved. I was hired to hang out with him and do light housekeeping. I loved this family and their selected values. They didn't have a tv, lived in a modest home on the beach, and while they had their own unique family challenges, they seemed generally happy to be around each other.

I distinctly remember walking into the house on a Monday morning, and it being a big mess.  I would lightly clean and then we were off to the beach for the day. 

One day the mother told me she knew the house stays cluttered but she chooses to spend time with her family on the weekend instead of tirelessly cleaning. I remember judging her for not doing it all- deeming her a less than perfect superwoman. 

I feel awful about this today. Where did that standard even come from in my mind? Well, I was newly married, had no children, and it was easy to keep the house clean. While I liked to keep the house clean and took much of time to do it, she made a conscious decision not to. 

It struck me as odd. Didn't she want her house clean and sparkly everyday? Didn't she want those piles of laundry gone? Wasn't it her responsibility to keep her house tidy?

The answer used to be an unquestioned yes. But thinking about her lately, I have come to utterly respect this woman. She had a husband and two teenage boys who could of held more personal responsibility in the home. And of course, not always doing everything, she could have been teaching them about self-sufficiency, letting them see how much work it really takes to manage a household instead of only complaining about it. 

I can see now this was my introduction to one of the principals I am concerned with today - division of household labor.

Here's the thing that people don't get- some think if you're a feminist, you're supposed to only care about making enough money to outsource your parenting responsibilities so you can concern yourself with breaking the glass ceiling. People assume feminists only care about changing the world beyond the domestic realm. 

But there's a whole lot of feminists and fathers who care about things such as how housework is split between the family. 

Some feminists are concerned how many devalue housework because it's work outside the "meaningful sphere" of making money. It's hard to calculate when a mother's work  begins and ends, which of it is work and which of it is play. 

But just because something is complicated doesn't mean we shouldn't question it. 

Sometimes I sit and think isn't it nice to have a slave? I mean I would like to have the benefit of a clean house, clean laundry, and a warm meal the moment I walk in - all without having to do it myself. 

With my relationship, I constantly evaluate leisure time and responsibility time. However, I also know that when it comes to housecleaning, I have higher standards than my husband thanks to in part how young girls are socialized to be perfectionist house cleaners and boys are socialized to think of housework as feminine. 

Mike takes a lot of time to train for Ironmans and competitive cycling. Often, I am secretly angry because the house is a mess or the laundry is piled up, and he's out having fun. Yet, there are times that for my leisure I want to walk the dogs or play with my baby, but that doesn't mean I want to always be the one responsible for these. 

Nevertheless, I think more women need to have clearer boundaries when it comes to free time. Sometimes, yes, you have to literally leave the house to ensure your time is all your own and your own instincts or perfectionist behavior doesn't become a hinderance to how your spouse parents when its his turn. And sometimes you just have to get out so that dad doesn't always rely on you to fix the crying baby. And also, you have to make yourself make your own time. You can't sit back, compare time sheets, build resentment, and make your spouse the only one responsible for your own lack of boundaries. 

Being a new mother I understand things will never be 50/50 when it comes to child rearing, especially if you are a mother who breastfeeds. The more time mom spends with the baby, the more she becomes the expert with him. 

But we certainly can get to a better percentage place where partnership parenting is the prominent goal. 

The thing is each family has to find the right balance for them. What's the most important to you, what's important to him? - a clean kitchen? folded and ironed clothes? healthy meals? The Equally Shared Parenting website reminds us:

Equal sharing of the housework begins with consensus on three fronts: 1) what needs to be done, 2) when it needs to be done, and 3) how thoroughly it needs to be done.   Once these difficult negotiations are complete the assignment of tasks becomes a bit easier.  The ‘perfectionist’ parent should be especially careful to avoid controlling the decisions, and should be prepared to ‘let go’ to some degree.  Good enough is good enough.  The achievement of equality is the real victory. 

So I can sit here and take a distorted martydom approach that seems to be glorifying a type of superwoman motherhood (poor me look at all I have to do but look how great I am for attempting to do it all) or I can work with my partner to come up with homecleaning values, time tables, and required child free time for BOTH parents that work for us. And I'm so happy that my partner is willing to do this. I only wish all women had it that good. 

Yes, while some feminists seek to change the whole world at once, I can't be a superwoman and hold myself accountable for all that. I can, however, change my little world and the experiences my son learns from when sharing a life with someone. I can change my perspective, my boundaries, how I use my time, and my expectations of perfection.

So I nod to the stay-at-home mother feminists out there who started asking these questions, and I nod to the husbands and fathers that care to make their feminist wives and sons happy by being fully present in their lives, even when that means sometimes grocery shopping or doing laundry instead of building a cool new trike.