Motherhood: the best job you could ever have?

I am blessed to have grown up in an environment that encouraged and affirmed family relationships: marriage, parenting, siblings, etc. I firmly believe that families are the building blocks of society, and therefore healthy family life is essential to good communities.

So let that be the backdrop for the rest of this post. With that in mind, I also understand that it is so necessary and important to continue to affirm and encourage parents as they (we) raise the future leaders, workers, and parents of the world.

But, despite my admiration for parenthood even while single, there were times when I felt like the adulation of its virtues went almost too far - to the point of disparaging other roles. I know I have heard this line, or variations of it before, and while I can't actually pinpoint any particular book, speech, or sermon as a source, it goes something like this:

"Motherhood is the best job you could ever have."

Hearing that made me cringe internally. Not because motherhood isn't extremely important, or because I didn't want to be a mother someday, but the word that struck me was "best." I didn't have a baby until I was 26, and so I spent a fair amount of time as a single and child-free adult (though still not as much as many of my friends have), but I have to admit, it would probably still make me cringe even now.

Why? Because by saying that motherhood is the best job that a woman can have, you are therefore saying that any woman who is not a mother, no matter what else she does, is doing something that is less than best. And that's a lie. "If motherhood is the best job I could ever have," I would think, "Does that mean I'm failing now?" I didn't feel like I was. At least not all the time.

Honestly, I don't think that most people who say/type lines like that really mean it that way. I think what they're mostly trying to say is that if you're a mother, motherhood is the most important of all your jobs. But there are ways to communicate that without making it sound like you're minimizing the jobs and roles of child-free people, or negating their importance. (Or minimizing the importance of other jobs that mothers may have.)

Motherhood is SO important. It's already the hardest job I've ever had, and I've only just started! But it is also a great job, and I'm so glad I have the privilege of being one. It is a role in which you are closely bonded with one or more brand new little people, and you become one of (and at times THE) chief influence to shepherd them through their early years, and beyond. That is a huge responsibility, with so much involvement and potential, and it can be pretty scary sometimes. Affirmation and support are so important. And yes, there may be people who feel as though they wasted portions of their lives, or at least did not use their time wisely, and thought they "grew up" a lot by becoming parents. There's nothing wrong with being honest about those feelings.

But that doesn't mean that having a child is the only way to shepherd and influence the next generation. Many people do that without taking on the role of parenthood. What's truly important is that every person realizes the importance and value in relationships. While immediate family relationships are the obvious ones, they don't have to be the only ones. There are many people in many different stages of life who will either never be parents, or are simply child-free for a season, and to say or imply that the work they're currently doing is good but still lacking without children is wrong and hurtful - especially since, like me at the time, it's not always something that's a current option for them. Child-free people have the freedom and ability to develop relationships outside their nuclear families that parents don't always have.

Again, I think very few people would actually say that line above. Most churches and communities I have been in have done a great job of affirming people in whatever their current stages of life are. But I still think it's worth keeping in mind. The importance of motherhood/parenthood does not mean that the time spent before it is of less importance, for me or anyone else.

That's why it's so important to make sure that in encouraging and building up parents, it is not done in a way that downplays anyone else's role or job, but rather affirms the importance of every role and stage of life.

Pumpkin

I found out a couple days ago that my cat has diabetes.

In one sense I'm glad because it's an answer to what has been troubling him lately, but in another I feel distressed because I know the treatments are more than we can afford or feasibly handle right now.

We live in a time and country where some people will spend a fortune on pets even when they're not chronically ill. It's a sad fact of life that in some areas of the world, pets get better medical treatment than people in other areas of the world.

So yes, he's not a person, he's a cat, and we know his lifespan is short to begin with. But that doesn't change the fact that he's important to me. Obviously our time and long-term financial health are important too, but still, this cat was my friend before I had a family of my own. Clearly I'm torn.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that to a cat, the methods used to control this illness (needles, daily injections and monitoring, more vet visits, etc.) are rather contrary to his desired mode of living, and he would never understand them. He wouldn't know why I was constantly having to hurt him and not letting him go outside. He might even come to fear me because of all the needles. I suppose some other things in this house are contrary to his desires, but that's beside the point.

The point is, for an animal, he has had a good life. And I want him to continue having a good life, which in this case, I believe, means comfort care. I want him to fully enjoy whatever time he has left, and when it comes to the point where he can't do that anymore, I don't want him to suffer. I really don't think that months and possibly years full of needles and medication are the right choice for us.

He's at least eight years old... I knew it had to happen eventually, and I guess I'd rather have warning. Still, it's a sad thing. He's been with me for five years. I hope he can stay around a lot longer, but if he doesn't, I want to make his last months as loving as possible.

Do I have to start a mommy blog now?

Wow, much has changed since I last updated. I'm married and I have a son - two major life-altering experiences right there, and I suppose a pretty decent excuse for letting my poor blog languish.

I need to get back into the habit of writing though, and while typing one-handed is harder, I can't let that be my excuse because I need to write. It's healthy, cathartic, and therapeutic. Writing is to my brain what a brisk walk is to my muscular and circulatory systems.

But there's a part of me that groans inwardly at the idea of a "mommy blog." Even if I don't try to make my writing all about my role as a mother, I can't help the fact that it is a very significant part of my life and it will undoubtedly sneak into my inspiration, which I don't mind, because to keep it out entirely would be a bit of a loss.

I really can't be down on "mommy blogs" though - I have come across some wonderful blogs out there, written by women who are mothers, that provide timely insights, and truly helpful ideas and practical solutions without judgment or condescension. I would have a long way to go to develop the experience needed to write a truly helpful parenting blog.

Then on the other end of the spectrum, are some blogs that, sometimes under the guise of "sharing information," proceed to regale the reader with opinions on their favorite hot-button issues, and whatever parenting labels they have chosen to align their choices with, subtly (or not-so-subtly) implying that their way is "best," even though they're "totally not judging you." And unfortunately, I know how easy it is to fall into that trap.

Right now, raising a child is a HUGE part of my life. There is no way around that. But something tells me that someday, the issues that seem oh-so-important to me right now (mode of diapering, method of feeding, the extent to which a routine is kept or not kept, etc. etc.) will pale in comparison to the big picture: raising a child to become an adult, with love, discipline, and compassion, and hoping that will come to pass despite all of our mistakes. I don't want to get lost in, or overly committed to the details along the way.

That's what I'm going for anyway. We'll see what happens.

Leave a space

Senior year of college was challenging. I felt like I was dealing with the stress of being pulled in so many directions that I let that overwhelm me at times, and failed to probe the full wealth of opportunity in my various responsibilities, or pursue all the potential in many friendships.

While I still believe nothing is wasted, this fear of stress is puzzling at times. After college I feel like I almost went in the opposite direction for a bit - not putting enough on my plate, and just kind of hoping that it would find me instead.

But now I believe I'm finding a better balance. Especially with the upcoming challenges of the summer (which I shall perhaps go into detail on at a later date), I feel like I have enough without too much. Something I can throw myself into without dwelling on the effects.

I've read that stress is like spice. Without it, the dish will be bland. Too much, and you choke. I've come up with another metaphor that I feel is also rather apt:

As a kid, I used to play sports, such as softball for fun (I wasn't very good, but that's a different story). We would always bring water with us to the games - that was a necessity - and after a while we got into the habit of freezing the water bottles the day of the game, so that the ice would melt during the evening and keep the water cold the whole time.

It's a great idea, but I think most kids at some point learn the hard way that if you're going to freeze a water bottle, you can't fill it up to the brim. Water expands as it freezes, and if the container is full to the top, the ice will burst out of it and crack the container. On the other hand, if you only fill it up halfway, you won't have enough water, and will be thirsty by the end of the game. We learned at a young age to "leave a space" when filling up our bottles, so we'd have enough to drink, but not burst the bottle in the process.

In my life, I'm still wrestling with the idea of "leaving a space" - of planning enough activities/events to stay busy and productive, but also leaving enough time to throw some last-minute things in there if needed. If the time doesn't get used, I end up with some "me time", which is fine, but if it does get used, I won't feel like I'm bursting the brim by adding in another activity I really wanted to do, or feel guilty about saying "no" all the time because I'm just too full.

I don't have it down yet... sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough, or letting some things/people slide. Other times I feel like I'm not leaving enough time to do "little" things like basic chores. But I'm trying to learn to always "leave a space" - and to always be open to what may need to fill it.

Sometimes

Sometimes you say things you don't feel. Sometimes you feel something but don't say it. But sometimes, you know that something is true whether anyone says it or feels it, or not. I know that I'm loved in ways that run so much deeper than human love ever could, even though it doesn't always feel that way. I'm not even capable of understanding just how much I don't deserve this.

Human love of any kind is no replacement for God's love. Neither is it wise to chase after the one at the expense of the other (not that we can lose His love, but the fellowship it brings about is not worth losing).

I am aiming to learn to be content in all things. Not content as in simply passive - that can be a problem when it comes to being too comfortable in my life. But contentment is a gift. If I allow bitterness, resentment, and discontentment to become my friends, they will start to change who I am on the inside. And that's not something that money, fame, or marriage would ever change. If I'm content with my life now, I am much more likely to continue being content when and if things ever change.

I'm still learning about love, and while human love is a wonderful thing, it alone cannot "fix" me, or save me from anything. I would be let down and discouraged if I depended on it to that extent.

This time of my life is wonderful... the freedom, the friends, the choices and adventure... Help me to appreciate it the way I should :-)

I'm okay

At times I come to realize a taste of the true privilege of owning a vehicle - just coming home in the evening and leaving it down there in the lot - this monster of mechanics and metal that is worth over a thousand dollars (I think), and yet is fully mine, and gets me safely where I want to go. And when I come down in the morning, it's right there. I turn a key, get inside, and can go anywhere I want to. Well, I go to work. But theoretically, ya know.

And yet how quick I am to complain that "Oh, it's cold! The heater takes so long to warm up! Ugh, I have to spend two minutes of my life scraping ice off the windshield! Sheesh, my rear window is so dirty - why can't I have a functioning rear windshield wiper?" I'm such a spoiled brat. Really. And I should be able to realize this more often than just when a major disaster hits an impoverished country.

I am incredibly blessed. And too often I find it enough to just say that and be glad with it, but really, what's the point of a blessing if not to pass it along? Does God bless me because he just wants me to have a sheltered, quiet life, without too much danger, because I'm somehow more special than the people who don't live a life of such high privilege? No!

I would like to be able to do more than just pray and donate some cash - but I'm sure many others would too. I would really like to keep my heart open for more opportunities after this summer wraps up. I'm praying that my sponsored girls in Haiti are okay.

I remember reading a book called "Where we stand: class matters" in philosophy class, and the author talked about the ways people can rationalize not giving to the poor. Because, believe it or not, even people that you see as "rich" have people that they consider even richer than themselves. And the author contended that as long as we have people who we think make us "inferior" financially, we don't feel compelled to give much, because we feel that they should be doing it.

Comparison for the sake of rationalization, or shirking of responsibilities, is a bad thing. But comparison is kinda necessary sometimes, when I find myself getting too content with the wonderful life that I have.

Every day is New Year's Day

It is now the fourth day of this new decade, and I have yet to produce any kind of obligatory "New Year's" entry. Considering my penchant in the past for exhaustive year-end reviews, it seems strange that I have waited so long to write anything, especially since we had a 3-day snowstorm over the weekend, and before going to work today, I hadn't been out of the apartment since getting groceries on Saturday.

Well. I suppose it's becoming clearer in which direction my paltry New Year's resolutions shall (or should) lie. Perhaps in minimizing distractions?

Really though, this time spent snowed in has helped me realize how much I miss the society of others, and this is perhaps the area in which I need the most work. I'm not the person who always knows what to say at the right time - in fact, my silence is more often due to the fact that I usually do the opposite, rather than genuinely having nothing to say. I rarely, if ever, initiate things. Not because I don't want it, but don't know if it will work. Sometimes I have a hard time knowing if I'm helping or hurting. Perhaps it's worth it to try anyway?

Enough of that. I've decided I'm going to try more. (I really should quit with these increasingly vague Resolutions). This short year has proven beyond a doubt that waiting until some grand new "start" (like the beginning of a decade) is not enough motivation to make me change. If I want to change, I just have to resolve to do it, instead of waiting for something. Because there will never be enough motivation out there if I look at it that way.

I know I wasn't the only Mainer who spent a rather lazy weekend at home, out of necessity and safety rather than desire. But it's not okay to be comfortable with that on a regular basis. I'm already making plans for the summer that will take me out of my comfort zone in more ways than one, and I pray that God will use me to impact others instead of just others impacting me this time.

I also resolve to use less "I" in this blog, even though it is mine.