Techno Mom : Traditional Heart

Diversity in opinion is a good thing.  It is interesting to hear other people’s views on what works best for them as mothers.  The problem is, it is a sensitive topic.  How a woman raises her children is a seriously personal tie to her worthiness as a person in a lot of ways.  Nobody proudly says, “I hope to have my kids grow up to be lazy, uneducated, and live on kool aid and cookies.”  We all want our children to have healthy habits, learn as much as possible, and go far in everything they do.

Recently a general interest parenting section on a secular message board I frequent had a total meltdown.  Cyber arrows flew as a debate got ugly about breast feeding vs. formula feeding.  Articles were posted supporting both sides, formula was likened to poison, extended breast feeding was referred to as “weird” and “creepy.”  Feelings were hurt, anger ran high, some women eventually were banned for their outbursts.  Then 2 weeks or so later, another bru-ha-ha broke out over whether it is kind to let a child cry himself to sleep.  More drama, more articles with dire predictions, and more banning.

And it isn’t just secular sites.  In a less angry way, I’ve seen it on Christian boards related to other things like home school vs. public, courting vs. dating, quiverfull vs. birth control.  Mothers can really attack each other over these issues because every mother worries that they are making the right decisions for their children.  So by defending a position passionatly, a mother can feel like she is not only discussing her view on sleep training, but going to the very core of who she is as a parent and how much she loves her child.

This particular website, Christian Homekeepers, used to have another name “Titus 2 Christian Homekeepers” on the old message board format.  The Bible verses this moniker referred to are Titus 2:3-5.

“³Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good,  ⁴so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children,  ⁵to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored.”

The moderators and administrators here at Christian Homekeepers do a beautiful job of keeping these principles in mind on the message board.  People don’t agree 100% of the time but every one has learned how to take a breath, count to ten, and comment on issues with love and encouragement.  The phrase “older women” doesn’t even have to apply to chronological age, either.  It can be a mother with kids older than mine.  She might be 10 years younger than me, but she knows more about some aspects of child rearing because she’s been there already, and I have often learned from women my junior on this site.

I love learning from other mothers, talking about our kids, sharing struggles and triumphs.  I think we all do, that’s why there are hundreds of boards and websites all over the Internet where women share their mother experiences.  It can be one of the greatest resources to have advice and testimonials from other moms as I navigate the challenges of upcoming tasks like potty training or weaning or choosing a pre-school.  But it can also be one of the most hurtful experiences to go online and read that you just poisoned, abused, or otherwise stunted your child because someone doesn’t know how to share their views compassionately.

I am no better than other women when it comes to being decisive and determined about the choices I’ve made for my kids, but I hope that with God’s help I’ll remember to always take a breath and remember we’re all in this mothering job together before shooting off my mouth.  I can “be good” very easily on a site like this one where I know there is a high standard, but I see no reason not to keep that Titus 2 Standard wherever I go in cyberspace or the real world.

My husband and I were watching Celebrity Apprentice last night and some account executives for a laundry detergent were giving a target demographic breakdown to a team trying to create advertising for the soap.  The target person was described as a woman over 25.  A team member asked “are these women mothers?”  The account rep replied, “Not mothers, women with children.”

What is the difference?  And why is it something a product rep would correct?  I don’t get it.  Women are usually proud to be mothers.  Being called Mommy for the first time by your child is a wonderful feeling.  Is our society so careful nowadays about being politically correct and supporting feminist ideals that the term mother is offensive somehow?  I know that janitors are now “environmental engineers” and stewardesses are “flight attendants” and other jobs have been given title upgrades, but does mother need an upgrade?

As a career woman, I know how important my job can make me feel–it feels good  to produce work that my bosses compliment and earn money that helps pay for things my family needs and buy presents and treats we want.  But being a senior analyst vs. being a mother–I’ll take Mama any day.  Even when it is wailed by a kid who just threw up on himself or a baby who is waking up for the 31st time of the night. 

Don’t get me wrong, being a mother is by far the hardest job I’ve ever had.  And I don’t feel very good at it or accomplished most days.  I don’t have a lot of patience and I am pretty selfish in my quest for me time and time alone with my husband most of the time.

The best way for me to not get frustrated with being a mom is to remember that it is a miracle and a gift to become one.  I have had friends who suffer the sadness of miscarriages and the waiting and hoping of infertility or the delays of the adoption process.  I remember the wonder of feeling my babies kicking inside me and not being able to wrap my head around the biology that makes it possible to grow an entire other person in your body over a fairly short amount of time. 

Some days I forget what a blessing it is that God entrusted me with motherhood.  I get so weary from lack of sleep or inability to get that elusive break.  But God has given me this amazing example of unconditional love.  I have been a Christian since childhood but in becoming a mother I have recieved a whole new insight into the concept of what motivates God to love me. 

One of the most amazing blessings of motherhood is a heightened understanding of forgiveness.  In moments of doubt and weakness, Christians can wonder just what we did to deserve Jesus’ death on the cross for our sins.  It is hard to imagine ever doing that for 1 other person in our lives, much less humanity for all time like He did.  It is so easy to get down on yourself as a sinful creature and think, there’s no way I’m going to heaven, I’m selfish and mean-spirited and I mess up hourly. 

But when you have a baby and you love it from its conception, you can put up with it when they make hourly mistakes, too.   You even find forgiving your children second nature when they’re little.  I know that children can grow up and do things that are pretty hideous and challenging to forgive, but in the 2 short years I’ve been a mother, I can definitly get a glimpse into the concept of eternal forgiveness and love.  I appreciate that this parenthood distinction exists and I love learning more every day how to forgive and how much more gratitude I have for God’s grace for me.

A woman with children could merely be a person with XY chromosomes who stumbles into the same room as some people under 18.  But a mother, well, I am happy to be in that demographic and you can call me that anytime.

“Turn, Turn, Turn” 

The 60’s song by the Byrds is in many movies and TV shows representing the 1960s popular culture.  The lyrics, as it is well known, are from Ecclesiastes 3 in the Bible.  The 60’s version of these verses was used as a peace anthem and a definition of a generational attitude.  I think this “hippie” version of these verses makes me think it is either a cliche or they lost their meaning when it was co-opted by the counter culture 40 years ago.

But as a very busy mother, this ancient word of God can be inspirational and give me guidance when I read the words straight from the source and don’t add the catchy tune.

From the NIV, Ecclesiastes 3

“ ¹ There is a time for everything,
       and a season for every activity under heaven: ”

In my most frustrated and tired moments of being a working mom, I wistfully remember my pre-baby days where I had all the time in the world to read library books, crochet blankets and scarves for gifts, volunteer with the youth group at church, and visit with friends.  I had time to pray for long lists of people, read my Bible regularly and meditate on the word of God. 

Experienced, wiser moms who I’ve gone to for advice since having my children have often told me “this too shall pass.”  This time of having a baby and a toddler is a season in our lives but it is one that will not be here forever.  Although to a mother with no sleep and diapers to change and bottles to fix and babies who cry in the night this seems like an unbelievable statement, it is a good one to remember.  The most important part, to me, of remembering that each phase is a season is not as much about when it will be over but not feeling guilty about what you can’t do during each one.  For me, the biggest thing I miss is serving more in our church.  I not been able to volunteer for many things because it would involve me abdicating too much Mommy time or heaping too much kid care on my husband.  Right now, in this season, God’s purpose for me is more in my home than in my church.  So I can let go of the guilt pangs I feel when I see a need in a church bulletin and know that my time will come around again to serve more.

The passage in Ecc. 3 goes on with the most famous words next, the time to weep, pray, sew, reap, etc.  Those are all true and applicable.  But the verses that come after the “time to” part is not quoted in the song and I think less known.  But it is vitally important as well.  Verses 9-14 read:

“⁹ What does the worker gain from his toil? ¹⁰ I have seen the burden God has laid on men. ¹¹ He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. ¹² I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. ¹³ That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God. ¹⁴ I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him. ”

Being a mother is often looked at as a lot of drudgery–laundry, picking up toys, vacuuming up crumbs, taking out the trash from the diaper pail 5 times a week.  These verses remind me as a mom that each part of this work is still a place to find joy.  The idea that God sets eternity in the hearts of his people just as he gives us our burden of work here on Earth is an amazing concept.  In a practical way, this is how we as moms should view parenting.  Not in the narrow focus of mundane tasks but in the larger picture of raising our sons and daughters to be men and women.  Parents are always so proud on graduation days, wedding days, and when their grandchildren are born–it is the culmination of their parenting work.  Their children have ‘made it’ and are now adults with accomplishments and families of their own.  This is God’s microcosm of the way all work on earth is to be viewed–we do everything for his glory and purpose–that is where our statisfaction lies.

If someone were to ask me how one is to obtain contentment, I would tell them–contentment is in your life all the time, you just have to embrace it.  And I believe that most of the time.  I consider myself a person who tries to keep the glass half full.  Sure, I worry or stress or feel concern about things every day.  But once I worry through something, I usually make up my mind to seek God’s help in a solution, talk it out with my husband, and then categorize it as “under control” and come up with a reason why this is a good thing for us and be OK with it.  Maybe not dancing in the street over it, but content.

This weekend my husband and I took our kids to visit my sister and brother-in-law.  They’re a bit younger than us, don’t have kids.  They both have really good jobs, and a very nice house.  They have a gigantic big screen TV with massive speakers, a 300 DVD changer and every cool video game gadget under the sun.   Their home is gorgeously decorated, they drive late model cars, their clothing is chic and in style.   They go on fun trips to Las Vegas, B&B getaways, and concerts by their favorite artists.

We showed up with our 2 kids after a 7 hour drive.  We walked into their serene home and immediatly threw it into chaos.  My hair was a mess because my daughter pulls it all the time and it was coming out of my ponytail.  Both our kids had been screaming their heads off for the last 30 minutes of the drive, so my husband and I were a bit frazzled, to say the least.  My son was terrified of their small poodle and was shaking and sobbing with snot running down his face, huddled in my lap.  My daughter tried to pull herself up to standing on their fancy coffee table and the angle of it made her fall and start to wail.  My husband was struggling to carry in a suitcase, 2 diaper bags, a pack and play, a toy bag, and the shoes my son thought he should remove part way through the trip.  Are they sure they wanted us to visit?

The weekend calmed down a little and we got our kids to bed and had dinner and socialized a bit.  But then we went to bed–both kids were sleeping in our room and let’s just summarize the night in the phrase–90 minutes of sleep total.  It was not pretty.  By morning I had a raging headache, I was blindly furious with my kids for being so difficult (had to say sorry to God for that one–they are babies, after all!), and I was really pretty jealous of my sister’s life.

Not her job or her house–but my own memories of what my life with John was like before we had our babies.  Our apartment had been cute and decorated in our own eclectic way.  We went to movies every weekend.  We ate out at all kinds of cool restaurants.  We went on over night getaways, had season tickets to community theater, went to concerts, slept late on weekends.  I loved our honeymoon phase.  So much so that for a long time I thought we’d just keep it a family of two and go on our merry way.  We were so set against having kids that we asked the pastor to leave that out of the official wedding vows he planned to use at our ceremony, the part about welcoming kids.  We didn’t want to promise that in front of God and everybody when we had no intention of doing so at that time.

Ironically, though, it was my sister who made me WANT to have babies.  Not directly, and I don’t think she even knows, but it was her.  See, her married life hasn’t always been so awesome–her husband had an 18 month deployment to Iraq with the army.  A few weeks before her 2nd anniversary and his 23 birthday, he got shipped to war.  And I remember the day she told me, I thought–what would I do if I was in her shoes?  My immediate reaction was–I’d get pregnant before he leaves.  I’d want a piece of my husband in case he didn’t come home.  And within 2 months I was pregnant myself.

I realized then, in considering how my sister’s seperation from her husband may or may not be permanent, how much I valued my own husband.  How our extremely happy life and fun honeymoon-ey marriage was because of how utterly I loved him.  How I suddenly realized that having children with him would be an act of love–a creation of life–immortality on this earth through our genes.  And because we were so tightly woven with each other, I knew without a doubt that we would be a unified team if we were to become parents.

And guess what?  We are!  We may be in the trenches right now with a boisterous 2 year old son and a precocious and princessy 10 month old daughter, but we are on the same team.  We are totally in sync and agreement on what to do and how.  We work so well together as parents.  We are by no means remotely perfect, but we are in this together and that makes it possible for us each to face the hardest of days and nights of toddler/infanthood.

The weekend was fun, I was happy to spend time with my sister and John and I had fun learning to play guitar hero after the kids went to bed.  But my son also broke a lamp and he never did learn to get along with their dog.  So it was stressful to be guests of a kidless household for a weekend, but when we got home to our own toy-strewn home and unwound from the journey, I was happy again with my choices.  Soon it was bedtime and John had Lizzy snuggled in his lap feeding her a bottle and I had Jonathan, sweet smelling from his bath in my own lap and I thought, yeah, this is our road and I’m content with it–and ready for the next stretch of miles.