Post Category → motherhood

“mom” days

There have been moments in the last two years when I feel like a “real” mom. Usually it’s when I’m in the middle of something that I so clearly remember my own mother doing.

Yesterday was one of those days. I suddenly decided to totally rearrange bedrooms. This included moving queen sized beds, dresses, disassembling a crib, removing a door, etc — all while very pregnant, and with only an excited toddler to help. The most enjoyable part of it all, including even the outcome, was thinking about how many times I’d seen my own big-bellied mama hauling dressers up and down the stairs, while we little people jumped around (in her way, under her feet) with excitement about something “new”.

Of course, last night my body ached so much that I literally couldn’t even fall asleep. (How frustrating; after dreaming about laying down all day long, I couldn’t even enjoy the moment!) Ryan suggested that after three long days of deep cleaning and rearranging, I take a down day. Rest this body, give a little attention to the baby inside, relax. Do something fun.

So I slept in a bit.

And then I made chocolate chip scones.

I lit a candle, turned on Diana Krall, and am having a lovely little breakfast with my favorite buddy (who thinks chocolate chips for breakfast is about as good as it gets!) He’s making me laugh, imitating the squirrels we see out the window. I think later I’ll go grocery shopping, tidy things up a bit, maybe walk to the playground — and generally resist the urge to delve into the last room waiting for an overhaul.

(Now he’s making me laugh with his little head-bops, closing his eyes when he’s really getting into the music. Who taught him this stuff? What a ham…)

Jameson bits

Twice a day, I lay down next to Jameson while he drifts off to sleep. He doesn’t mind sleeping on his own “special bed” as long as someone cuddles with him for those 10 minutes. And I don’t mind obliging. Call it a crutch or a prop or whatever else, I’m not too worried. In fact, I love it. I realize that at least for now, with this child, it’s an opportunity for my pregnant body to lay down midday and rest, even if I don’t take a full-fledged nap. And in the evening, it’s a chance for me to slow down, to turn off the energy and agenda of the day.

And most of all, I know it won’t last forever. In fact, chances are, Daddy will do more and more bedtime with Jameson come late October. So for now, I’m loving those dimpled little arms wrapped around teddy’s neck. I love watching his eyes, wide open and staring into the dim evening, wondering what he’s thinking about and what far-off sound he’s taking in. And I love when he suddenly decides he needs to be curled right up against me as he drifts off to dreamland.

*****

As soon as we left New York, Jameson decided to begin adding to his small vocabulary of “yes” and “Mama.” One of the first new words, of course, was “Dad.” Now that he’s got that one under his belt, I hear it all day long.

He looks out the window: “Dad?”
We sit down for lunch: “Dad?”
Little feet hit the floor in the morning: “Dad?”
I open the door to get the mail: “Dad?”
We drive past the road Ryan’s office building is on: “Dad?”

Too cute.

*****

I have real cleaning on my agenda for this week. I knew I wouldn’t have to worry too much about how to entertain Jameson while working, and sure enough, this whole clearing furniture and rolling up rugs thing is totally exciting to his sanguine self. When I unzipped a pillow cover this morning, his eyes got huge and I got a big, “Wow!” in response. He’s such good company.

*****

Speaking of sanguine:

Last week we started doing devotions together. I wanted to start having some regular church practice, as well as just learning to sit still when I say so. At first, when I plopped him down on the couch next to me and pulled out his “Bible,” he wasn’t too happy about the whole thing. But when we moved from reading to prayer time, he started to catch on that we were doing something new and special. The best part, though, was when I sat him on the piano bench next to me while I sang “This is the Day.” He sat straight up the entire time, ankles crossed and hands folded in his lap, beaming up at me. And he couldn’t wait to sing the song for Daddy the next day.

more updates

:: Tomorrow night, Ryan comes. I am so excited, and I can’t wait for Jameson to see his daddy again. We’ll be back here a week from Monday.

:: My haircut is easy to wash, easy to style, and actually looked totally fine when I rolled out of bed this morning! I went right into work clothes today and started turning sod for my mom. I was drenched with sweat and covered with dirt in no time, but I couldn’t help but notice how much cooler and cleaner I felt with shorter hair. Nice.

:: Last night, after a bit of a spicy dinner, I had some contractions. Crazy: I’m really going to have a baby. That’s all I could think! Well, I also thought, boy is it weird when muscles in your body contract, and no matter how much you want them to relax, they won’t!

:: Jameson and I joined the Paladin clan for another day at the beach. Beautiful sky, beautiful trees, beautiful lake, and a beautiful drive home: this area is just breathtaking in the summer.

sick day

My poor little buddy has been teething like crazy the last week or so — fingers constantly be gnawed on, saliva running down his fists, elbows, and leaving puddles on the floor. And of course, a touch of fever. So lots of time in my bed rather than his.

And now he’s got an awful cold — I suppose that’s hard to avoid when you’ve been jamming your fingers in your mouth for days, everywhere you go, no matter what you’ve touched. He’s had tears streaming down his cheeks all day long, and not because he’s been crying. Just because his whole face is running. He couldn’t nap, due to choking on phlegm, and only got a few minutes of sleep when he would finally succumb as I rocked him. Now he’s at last in bed, snuggled in my bed, still coughing. I feel so bad for him. I hate it when he’s sick.

So, I got very little done today. In fact, I have no idea how an entire day passed while I did [what felt like] nothing. But oddly enough, my day of doing nothing felt more full of meaning and purpose than most of my productive days ever do. As I spent a whole day offering juice, running for the tissues, and holding a warm and distraught little boy, I knew that those moments mattered. And was thankful, again, that my mom served us as though being a mom was a high and holy calling. Because it is.

*****

Also of note, the blackberries in the backyard are ripening. Um, can you say YUM? (I can’t convince Jameson to try one, so I get them all to myself!)

red flag: parenting styles

Amy’s link to a post on “Mommy Wars”, along with a flurry of activity the last few weeks elsewhere on the world wide web has set me to thinking.

And to being thankful for the Holy Spirit. I definitely appreciate the red flags He occasionally waves, indicating that perhaps I’ve just read, thought, said, or discovered something a bit “off”.

There was one such red flag last week when I realized how deeply mothers associate themselves with schools of thought or philosophies of behavior. A “beware” sounded in my ear.

Here’s what happens: We’re all, always, looking for the right way to be a mother, the right way to parent, the right way to not fail our kids. Built into each of us — whether through personality, background, or culture — are instincts. And we hear an idea and say, “Aha! That sounds right!” Eventually, you may hear a whole string of “aha” ideas, find out it has a name and an official wikipedia entry, and realize that not only does your style have a title, but there’s a whole circle of mamas out there with the same ideas! How comforting is that? To find out there are whole books written to answer each of your questions as your refine this style that you’ve decided is yours? To know there are forums with dozens of trying-hard moms asking and answering the same dilemmas you face? Magazines, conferences, groups… You’ve been adopted into an official mama club!

But here’s the deep, deep problem with that: we begin to identify with a philosophy, rather than with Christ and His Word. We begin by perhaps agreeing with the outlying principles of a certain school of thought, but eventually, we’ve bought the whole thing. Our ideas on the basic nature of man, the relationship of parent-child, the goals of parents, the end-result desired for our children: all of these are now defined and articulated by whichever philosophy we’ve decided is “us”.

And that’s dangerous.

That’s not how a Christian is supposed to live life.

Want an example? Okay, how ’bout me: I came to mothering with lots of ideas inherited from my mother. Imagine my amazement when I discovered that much of what she’d taught and modeled to me was attachment parenting. (I can hear my mom now: “Attachment what?”) As I read about this philosophy of parenting, I realized how much I happened to fall into that “camp”. But when I began to notice “attachment parenting” in the profiles of Christian mama bloggers, a red flag went up. See, my ideas about how I respond to my baby’s cries, or feeding them on-demand in favor of schedules, and about nurturing them and ministering security and comfort to them were a result of my mom’s Bible studies, maternal instincts, and discoveries about how God designed babies’ and mother’s bodies.* As I continued those Bible studies on my own, the instincts that had been cultivated by my mom just grew stronger.

But I saw the trap before me — to jump from my Holy-Spirit and Bible based parenting into a camp defined by a human philosophy. A philosophy that would eventually influence my thoughts on human nature, parental authority, and goals for my children.

See, books and research, forums and magazines can perhaps help to confirm a God-given instinct. But when they become our identity, we can find ourselves going down paths not carved by the Word.

This goes for all parenting “methods”, not just the one I’ve given as an example. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us mothers to go around saying, “I’m attachment,” or, “I’m Babywise,” or “I’m gentle discipline,” or whatever your flavor of choice may be. There are “hook-line-and-sinker” ideas in all of those that should not simply be adopted as our own. (With attachment parenting, for instance, you eventually come to the belief that children are basically good.) The Bible tells us to sow with a view to righteousness, to sow to the Spirit — if we want to see Holy Spirit fruit. That means we must do more than simply grab at the most natural to us parenting style; we must purpose to have our minds renewed, our choices refined, and our lives characterized by Kingdom values.

Perhaps our parenting choices should be guided by the Word of God itself — a Word rich with principle, wisdom, direction, and all manner of guidance for every moment of life. Perhaps our questions should be posed to men and women of the faith who have borne fruit and whose wisdom is seen in the lives of their loving-the-Lord children…and not to a stranger in cyber-space who makes us feel comfortable because she just admitted to screaming at her children, too. Perhaps when Dr. Phil, or even Dr. Sears, makes a statement about the psychology of children, we should be quick to run to Scripture. And when the world tells us what kind and loving parenting is, we should be ready with the knowledge of what God says love and kindness are.

The world doesn’t need another generation of parents who think they’ve got the corner on the market with their new ideas and techniques. The world needs a generation of radical, take-God-at-His-Word disciples who are raising up a generation even more in love with Jesus.

So, I guess I’m writing this to stir myself and challenge you: don’t be an attachment mama or a Babywise mommy, or whatever.

Be a Christian.

(*This is not my subtle attempt to tell you that this is the only right way to parent. I’m just telling you about me, so you can understand the close parallels I found in attachment parenting.)

reading

I’m reading Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. It’s a loaner from my midwife. It was supposed to be my New York reading material, but there may not be much left to read by the time I get there. (Even if I’ve finished it, I’ll bring it along so you can look at it, Bri.)

The first half of the book is just birth story after birth story. I was excited to start reading them, knowing they’d be full of confident women giving birth courageously. They are certainly full of all that, along with some imagery and terms I find interesting (i.e. “rush” instead of “contraction”, to emphasize the energy instead of a sense of tension). But they are also full of… well, labor. There’s a reason I’m prepping for all of this. It’s, uh, BIG. (I won’t say daunting, because I don’t want to be daunted. [Although I may be, now and then.])

And since I’ve only had one birth with one midwife, reading all of these stories is helping me to get a feel for how other midwives coach and assist, and what I could ask for from my new midwife.

And I’m getting very excited about giving this homebirth thing a go.

The second half of the birth is Ina May on birthing. I’m eager to get to that part, to learn more about this miraculous process, and to read her tips and insights. I’ll return with a full book report when I’m through.