Nope. No pictures today either. Whenever I think I have a moment to blog, I then remember that I have yet to download pictures from my camera and then I decide not to blog. So this time, I'm just going to do it.
Life is good at the Cowart Casa. I find myself smiling more and laughing for no apparent reason. This is a good thing, and I'm afraid, not exactly usual this past year. There's something about carrying the weight of responsibility to love, care for, teach and train three little ones as well as the usual daily responsibilities a home-maker has . . . I have found myself under a tremendous burden as of . . . Haley's arrival? Not really sure, but a long enough time. Two of my children are in the throes of "dig-your-heels-in" training mode and life's responsibilities in general have all but sapped me of my energy, joy and drive at times.
However, there are hopeful moments; days where I can see a tiny glimmer that it isn't all a waste. Haley using manners without being reminded, Claire stopping to think before she yowls and gives way to a humongous tantrum, or Ruby coming to me in the kitchen, "What can I do for you, Mommy?" hands already washed, willing to do any task I find for her in my dinner project.
Such a day was today. I asked a lot of them. We took Gram out to breakfast for her 88th birthday (forgot the camera), returned a shirt at Penney's and did our monthly Costco trip. I didn't actually believe we could get it all done, and was completely prepared to ditch the Costco shopping till another day. But they came through, and no one was more surprised than I at how it went. Yes, we had issues. Yes, there were at least a half-dozen fits by a couple girls. Yes, we were all completely worn out by the time we returned home. But the fits were not out-of-control: "We-have-to-leave-now!" They were blips that came and went fairly suddenly (at least for what I'm used to!) and I can say that I actually enjoyed the morning errand-running, and so, I believe, did the girls.
I don't know what my deal is, but I feel as if I'm alone most of the time in my feelings of overwhelmedness. In fact, when I start to see that confused, "I'm not sure I get what you're talking about" look with others, I just go ahead and trail off on whatever I was saying.
I remember back to when I was that young single woman, or that starry-eyed pregnant-with-her-first-sweet-little-baby-with-whom-I-could-never-see-losing-my-temper woman or that woman with one child, and how I probably gave that, "Really?!?" look myself. And then I remember how much I now take comfort in recalling those times when I probably was giving that confused look, and yet that woman continued to be real about her struggles, and I am determined to continue to be real, even though at face value it is under appreciated, and possibly even frowned upon. I may turn a hundred people off by my realness, but if one woman can look back (as I do) and appreciatively remember that it wasn't easy for me either, then I think it is worth it to be real. After all, we are surrounded by people who make it look easy. If we didn't have an example of realness to point to now and then, we may begin to think we are crazy freaks.
In fact, I shudder to think how much more overwhelmed I'd be, were it not for women here and there in my life who gave me a glimpse of the reality of their situations. What kind of encouragement am I being if I keep my struggles to myself and act as if I have none? Yeah, I may look better to others. I may even have the respect of people who otherwise do not respect me. Perhaps even, a person may think I am the one to ask, since I clearly have it all together. But I think more often, a lack of openness breeds more of the same in relationships. And I don't want others to feel as if they cannot be real with me, that I would not understand (which I may not, but I do struggle, too!) and would not be compassionate to their situation.
When I started typing this evening, I did not intend for this to be a pep-talk to myself on the importance of remaining real, but I really do need to remind myself of this, because it is not a celebrated thing--even among Christians, where it should be encouraged (1 John 1:9, James 5:16, Proverbs 28:13).
God is so good, and that is not any less true when I am exuding sinfulness and struggling with my own fleshly desires. He is faithful to complete the work He started, and that is what I need to remember as well. He is my only hope in overcoming my propensity to anger or my critical spirit, my laziness, perfectionism or my tendency to feel guilty about every little thing I do or do not do.
Even though this post has been mainly helpful for me to express, I pray that by posting it, it blesses someone out there who also struggles :) and needs to know she's not alone in so doing.
Showing posts with label Ponderings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ponderings. Show all posts
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Milk People: Another Affirmation That I am Not a "Real" Woman
As part of my requirements for certification with Bradley as a birth instructor, I am to attend two La Leche League meetings. My first one was last week, and yesterday was my next (and presumably last) one.
The form I am to fill out after attending these meetings asks a question: "How can you encourage your students to attend these meetings?" I'm not really sure how to answer that question. I don't think I really "get" why they are important to attend or if the average person would find them beneficial.
It isn't that I think nursing is a breeze by any means. That it is so "natural" that any woman should take to it like a duck to water. Like birth, I believe a woman should read up, take informative class(es) and be prepared for the common challenges of breastfeeding. Education can provide the determination to continue in providing the best thing for baby. Most women I know who have struggled a great deal or stopped before the minimum recommended age have not really been prepared for what to expect and how to overcome difficulties. There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about nursing, some of which I believe cause the most "dropouts" in its regard.
I can see a need for education and preparation. I also acknowledge the importance of a support system. Many women who struggle to breastfeed were not breastfed themselves and do not know any women for whom it has been "successful." This provides a challenge, to be sure. So I think I would recommend that a woman in this situation attend a LLL meeting, even if just to feel more comfortable calling the leader, should questions and concerns arise.
Part of why I don't really get the whole idea of becoming a member of LLL or attending meetings regularly adds to the sneaking suspicion that I am not a "real" woman. There are many things about which I feel this way. I don't enjoy shopping, am not crafty and creative (decorating has never been high-priority in my home), and am "not into makeup and looking my best" (a "compliment" I received in my late teens from a young man as to why he wanted to date me--still cracks me up). Unlike many women who do it as long as I do (which I don't claim to be a long time, especially by LLL standards), I do not love breastfeeding. For me, breastfeeding is a sacrifice I am willing to make in order to give my babies the best start nutritionally.
At these two meetings in the last few days, as well as in reading LLL's book, "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding," (which, I would readily recommend as a resource for any woman who intends to breastfeed, by the way), I have been struck once again by the thought that I don't fall into the "normal woman" category.
I cannot relate to the woman who touts exclusive breastfeeding's wonderful benefit of a postponed cycle, as the longest I've ever gone without a period after pregnancy has been 4 months, and that I'm guessing had a great deal to do with the fact that Haley was literally attached to me almost all night every night for at least the first couple of those months (not that a postponed cycle was my reason for such nonsense. A not-screaming baby was the real inducement.). Not sure I'd consider it "worth it" enough to do that again. Sleep is just about as wonderful as a postponed cycle, I think. . . possibly better.
Nor do I consider breastfeeding "easy" or "relaxing." There are many times during the first year that I will come away from it feeling abused and exhausted (the "straight-arm" treatment, the kicking, biting, acrobatics, scratching and slapping that is common for at least some of that year). A great deal of training happens while baby is at the breast. And I don't find training peaceful and relaxing.
Unlike many proponents, I don't consider nursing all that convenient. Sure, it has its benefits. (Most of which I probably don't notice since I have never bottle fed.) But there are some drawbacks, too (one cannot exactly nurse while traveling by car, for instance) and there is that responsibility that goes along with the blessing of being the only one that can feed the baby. Since I can't/don't/won't pump (excruciatingly painful, takes forever, barely get anything, and then baby doesn't like the bottle), for the first 4-6 months, I won't leave my baby for more than an hour or so, and logistically, it isn't usually worth the trouble to leave at all. Toward the latter months, that can feel pretty smothering.
The usual challenges I encounter aren't solved by the customary fixes, and in a place like a LLL meeting, I am very alone in feeling the way I do. Like with many "rules" in life, there are always exceptions. I feel like something must be wrong with me since it seems I am the exception to a half-dozen rules in womanhood (pregnancy, labor, breastfeeding). A place like a LLL meeting re-opens all the ways in which I do not feel like a "real" woman, because I cannot relate to the idea that every problem has a simple solution and if there is a difficulty, it is always due to a wrong application.
I still remember being in the hospital the day after I had Ruby, and asking the lactation consultant to please tell me what I was doing wrong, since I found it quite painful to nurse. She observed us for a few minutes and said I wasn't doing anything wrong. As anyone who has taken a breastfeeding class or read a book will remember, the pat answer to the problem of pain in breastfeeding is that you're doing something wrong (improper latch-on, etc.). Yet I was doing it "right" and still experiencing pain. "No," she said. "It's not pain you should be feeling. Just a strong pulling sensation." Well, for her what was pulling was pain to me. And I had it from the horse's mouth: I was doing it right, yet still felt this way. The way you're assured you will not feel if you're doing it right.
And this is what I encounter many times in regard to womanhood. So a question creeps up: if the application isn't wrong, is something wrong with me? Why do I have a hard time telling if I'm in labor or not? Why is (was) it painful to nurse? Why is let-down such an intensely burning sensation, not just a "tingling?" Why do I feel more tender and sensitive, not "leathery" like women describe themselves during the months of nursing? (These three things have generally subsided since the first baby, causing me to think that one day I might know what it's like to be a "real" woman, but they were pretty pronounced that first year.) Why is pumping even that much more painful than nursing? Why does breastfeeding not help me "return quickly to my pre-pregnancy weight"? (If I were to rely on nursing alone, I'd easily have an extra fifty pounds on me with three pregnancies in such a short time.) How did Haley and I get thrush even when none of the contributing factors to its development were true for us? Why does my cycle return so soon when I'm doing the same (and oftentimes more) as women who don't get it for years?
I'm not bitter about these things, just confused. What is the deal? These idiosincracies make me feel like a weirdo woman, but surely there are other women who do not fit into the "normal" box either.
I just don't think they attend La Leche League meetings.
The form I am to fill out after attending these meetings asks a question: "How can you encourage your students to attend these meetings?" I'm not really sure how to answer that question. I don't think I really "get" why they are important to attend or if the average person would find them beneficial.
It isn't that I think nursing is a breeze by any means. That it is so "natural" that any woman should take to it like a duck to water. Like birth, I believe a woman should read up, take informative class(es) and be prepared for the common challenges of breastfeeding. Education can provide the determination to continue in providing the best thing for baby. Most women I know who have struggled a great deal or stopped before the minimum recommended age have not really been prepared for what to expect and how to overcome difficulties. There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about nursing, some of which I believe cause the most "dropouts" in its regard.
I can see a need for education and preparation. I also acknowledge the importance of a support system. Many women who struggle to breastfeed were not breastfed themselves and do not know any women for whom it has been "successful." This provides a challenge, to be sure. So I think I would recommend that a woman in this situation attend a LLL meeting, even if just to feel more comfortable calling the leader, should questions and concerns arise.
Part of why I don't really get the whole idea of becoming a member of LLL or attending meetings regularly adds to the sneaking suspicion that I am not a "real" woman. There are many things about which I feel this way. I don't enjoy shopping, am not crafty and creative (decorating has never been high-priority in my home), and am "not into makeup and looking my best" (a "compliment" I received in my late teens from a young man as to why he wanted to date me--still cracks me up). Unlike many women who do it as long as I do (which I don't claim to be a long time, especially by LLL standards), I do not love breastfeeding. For me, breastfeeding is a sacrifice I am willing to make in order to give my babies the best start nutritionally.
At these two meetings in the last few days, as well as in reading LLL's book, "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding," (which, I would readily recommend as a resource for any woman who intends to breastfeed, by the way), I have been struck once again by the thought that I don't fall into the "normal woman" category.
I cannot relate to the woman who touts exclusive breastfeeding's wonderful benefit of a postponed cycle, as the longest I've ever gone without a period after pregnancy has been 4 months, and that I'm guessing had a great deal to do with the fact that Haley was literally attached to me almost all night every night for at least the first couple of those months (not that a postponed cycle was my reason for such nonsense. A not-screaming baby was the real inducement.). Not sure I'd consider it "worth it" enough to do that again. Sleep is just about as wonderful as a postponed cycle, I think. . . possibly better.
Nor do I consider breastfeeding "easy" or "relaxing." There are many times during the first year that I will come away from it feeling abused and exhausted (the "straight-arm" treatment, the kicking, biting, acrobatics, scratching and slapping that is common for at least some of that year). A great deal of training happens while baby is at the breast. And I don't find training peaceful and relaxing.
Unlike many proponents, I don't consider nursing all that convenient. Sure, it has its benefits. (Most of which I probably don't notice since I have never bottle fed.) But there are some drawbacks, too (one cannot exactly nurse while traveling by car, for instance) and there is that responsibility that goes along with the blessing of being the only one that can feed the baby. Since I can't/don't/won't pump (excruciatingly painful, takes forever, barely get anything, and then baby doesn't like the bottle), for the first 4-6 months, I won't leave my baby for more than an hour or so, and logistically, it isn't usually worth the trouble to leave at all. Toward the latter months, that can feel pretty smothering.
The usual challenges I encounter aren't solved by the customary fixes, and in a place like a LLL meeting, I am very alone in feeling the way I do. Like with many "rules" in life, there are always exceptions. I feel like something must be wrong with me since it seems I am the exception to a half-dozen rules in womanhood (pregnancy, labor, breastfeeding). A place like a LLL meeting re-opens all the ways in which I do not feel like a "real" woman, because I cannot relate to the idea that every problem has a simple solution and if there is a difficulty, it is always due to a wrong application.
I still remember being in the hospital the day after I had Ruby, and asking the lactation consultant to please tell me what I was doing wrong, since I found it quite painful to nurse. She observed us for a few minutes and said I wasn't doing anything wrong. As anyone who has taken a breastfeeding class or read a book will remember, the pat answer to the problem of pain in breastfeeding is that you're doing something wrong (improper latch-on, etc.). Yet I was doing it "right" and still experiencing pain. "No," she said. "It's not pain you should be feeling. Just a strong pulling sensation." Well, for her what was pulling was pain to me. And I had it from the horse's mouth: I was doing it right, yet still felt this way. The way you're assured you will not feel if you're doing it right.
And this is what I encounter many times in regard to womanhood. So a question creeps up: if the application isn't wrong, is something wrong with me? Why do I have a hard time telling if I'm in labor or not? Why is (was) it painful to nurse? Why is let-down such an intensely burning sensation, not just a "tingling?" Why do I feel more tender and sensitive, not "leathery" like women describe themselves during the months of nursing? (These three things have generally subsided since the first baby, causing me to think that one day I might know what it's like to be a "real" woman, but they were pretty pronounced that first year.) Why is pumping even that much more painful than nursing? Why does breastfeeding not help me "return quickly to my pre-pregnancy weight"? (If I were to rely on nursing alone, I'd easily have an extra fifty pounds on me with three pregnancies in such a short time.) How did Haley and I get thrush even when none of the contributing factors to its development were true for us? Why does my cycle return so soon when I'm doing the same (and oftentimes more) as women who don't get it for years?
I'm not bitter about these things, just confused. What is the deal? These idiosincracies make me feel like a weirdo woman, but surely there are other women who do not fit into the "normal" box either.
I just don't think they attend La Leche League meetings.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
What's Up with Face Book?
I have been an inactive member of Facebook now for about 18 months. By "inactive," I mean I do not have a picture, a status, a friend, a wall . . . anything. I'm just "there."
But the other day, I noticed that I had a ton of new friend requests; like something had notified a bunch of people that I am "there." Until a couple weeks ago, I would get maybe one or two friend requests a month. Maybe it's that all you could see on my profile was my "recent" activity which was joining. Since there's no date, it might seem like I really have recently joined. So I deleted the part that said I joined, so as not to confuse any more people. Oh, and also the part that says I joined a network, so that people wouldn't think, Oh, yes, that's the Sarah Cowart and then click "Request Friendship." (Horrors! That would be awful.)
Why I'm only "there" on FB (or what I like to call "In-Your-Face-Book") is a complicated subject, but has to do with me trying to wrestle and hash out the relational and other ramifications of such technology (blogs have some of these ramifications, too!). My sisters know all-too-well my Facebook aversion, as I continue to pepper them with annoying questions about how it works and if it's risky like I think it is.
And the way some people seem to use Facebook is a real turn-off for me (as I've heard it is for others as well). Kinda like I don't appreciate blogs that only put the wonderful side of life out there along with the suggestion that this perfect side is all that is there. Or the "life is harder for me than for anyone else" posts de drama And I have to admit, I believe my posts probably have both of these general tones at times, but I hope people understand that I often use my blog as a diary to decompress and share things I won't probably tell most people in person, but in no way does it represent the entirety of my attitude or activities . . . but back to my point about FB . . . , I really don't want to use it as a way to show off or complain (Are you thinking, "yeah, right!"?) or make it a popularity contest (Hmmmm. Just how many friends can I have?) or a blow-by-blow of every event in my life.
When I do become an active member, I won't be posting about my 5 a.m. morning run or my 3rd loaf of stone-ground whole-wheat bread I've just pulled out of the oven while playing the harp and teaching my advanced-for-her-age child French and Algebra (she has such thick hair, by the way!) or that I'm taking a break from my doctoral thesis to fly (on wings I just weaved on my silk loom) to Angola on a mission of mercy.
Nor do I hope to post every time I have to clean throw up off a piece of furniture or other surface, hose off a blow-out, wash a dish, drink a cup of coffee, scrub a toilet, trim a hangnail or check Facebook. (Though now that I think of it, it would be kinda fun to keep updating my status, day after day: "Checking Facebook" and "Updating my status.")
Until I am completely comfortable with the Pandora's box that will open by my becoming "active," and what exactly my point will be in doing so, I will continue to just be "there" on In-Your-Face-Book. And since a great deal of my dilemma has to do with accepting friends (so many to choose from. . . and all of them seem to be saying, "Pick me! Pick me!". . . I'm totally exaggerating. I don't have that many requests.), I will wait to accept even one friend until I am fully prepared to deal with the consequences of my truly "joining" the community. (It should not be offensive to any "potential friends" that I have not accepted them, since clearly on my profile, I have none to begin with, right?)
I wonder if there are people out there who share my caution in joining such a consequential community. I have my reasons. Am I alone?
But the other day, I noticed that I had a ton of new friend requests; like something had notified a bunch of people that I am "there." Until a couple weeks ago, I would get maybe one or two friend requests a month. Maybe it's that all you could see on my profile was my "recent" activity which was joining. Since there's no date, it might seem like I really have recently joined. So I deleted the part that said I joined, so as not to confuse any more people. Oh, and also the part that says I joined a network, so that people wouldn't think, Oh, yes, that's the Sarah Cowart and then click "Request Friendship." (Horrors! That would be awful.)
Why I'm only "there" on FB (or what I like to call "In-Your-Face-Book") is a complicated subject, but has to do with me trying to wrestle and hash out the relational and other ramifications of such technology (blogs have some of these ramifications, too!). My sisters know all-too-well my Facebook aversion, as I continue to pepper them with annoying questions about how it works and if it's risky like I think it is.
And the way some people seem to use Facebook is a real turn-off for me (as I've heard it is for others as well). Kinda like I don't appreciate blogs that only put the wonderful side of life out there along with the suggestion that this perfect side is all that is there. Or the "life is harder for me than for anyone else" posts de drama And I have to admit, I believe my posts probably have both of these general tones at times, but I hope people understand that I often use my blog as a diary to decompress and share things I won't probably tell most people in person, but in no way does it represent the entirety of my attitude or activities . . . but back to my point about FB . . . , I really don't want to use it as a way to show off or complain (Are you thinking, "yeah, right!"?) or make it a popularity contest (Hmmmm. Just how many friends can I have?) or a blow-by-blow of every event in my life.
When I do become an active member, I won't be posting about my 5 a.m. morning run or my 3rd loaf of stone-ground whole-wheat bread I've just pulled out of the oven while playing the harp and teaching my advanced-for-her-age child French and Algebra (she has such thick hair, by the way!) or that I'm taking a break from my doctoral thesis to fly (on wings I just weaved on my silk loom) to Angola on a mission of mercy.
Nor do I hope to post every time I have to clean throw up off a piece of furniture or other surface, hose off a blow-out, wash a dish, drink a cup of coffee, scrub a toilet, trim a hangnail or check Facebook. (Though now that I think of it, it would be kinda fun to keep updating my status, day after day: "Checking Facebook" and "Updating my status.")
Until I am completely comfortable with the Pandora's box that will open by my becoming "active," and what exactly my point will be in doing so, I will continue to just be "there" on In-Your-Face-Book. And since a great deal of my dilemma has to do with accepting friends (so many to choose from. . . and all of them seem to be saying, "Pick me! Pick me!". . . I'm totally exaggerating. I don't have that many requests.), I will wait to accept even one friend until I am fully prepared to deal with the consequences of my truly "joining" the community. (It should not be offensive to any "potential friends" that I have not accepted them, since clearly on my profile, I have none to begin with, right?)
I wonder if there are people out there who share my caution in joining such a consequential community. I have my reasons. Am I alone?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Cola Consumption
Okay, I'll admit it; I have a serious attachment to cherry cola. One that I would have classified as borderline addictive, until I read this Yahoo article, titled, Too Much Cola Can Cause Muscle Problems. My friend forwarded the link to me with this summary attached: "Drinking too much cola can increase the risk of a muscle problem called hypokalemia, experts warn."
Naturally, I was curious to know in what and how much danger my 12 oz of cola a day (or 24 oz every other or every few days) habit placed me. So, though I usually delete most forwards, I decided to check this one out.
To my relief (and utter shock), I discovered that the review concerned people who drank two to seven liters of cola a day. (!) This fact makes the article almost too outlandish. Instead of taking my cola consumption seriously, I sat there and thought, "Duh." It is almost certain that people who consume such large quantities of cola face many more health concerns than the one mentioned in the article, especially considering that their other lifestyle decisions are likely to be equally as out of control. Most disturbing is the mention of two pregnant women who consumed 3 and up to 7 liters a day. They were each admitted to the hospital with low potassium levels, complaining of weakness and fatigue, among other things. Those poor babies!
Wow. So, sadly, instead of coming away with a resolve to drink less cola, I feel pretty good about my cola consumption, due to this article! While I usually think I should cut back to a can every few days, what I've just read makes my cola drinking seem the picture of moderation.
And I guess that's what I come away with when I read this and other articles like it: that moderation is the key. There are plenty of health nuts out there who, (I didn't say it--my husband did!) look like they're ten years older than they are, and then there are people who die very young of heart disease and other health-related illnesses. But there are those seventy-and eighty-something men and women who have never cut out red meat, butter, eggs, colas, sugar or carbs from their diets, who do not overly exercise, who have stayed healthy and trim and have few health concerns. If asked about their diets, the list will often include many of the supposed no-nos in food trends. I am more and more convinced the importance is not in what is consumed, but how much.
As to cutting back on my Cherry Coke habit, it would seem I'll need a more relevant article to open my eyes to the dangers and health risks of one cola a day.
Naturally, I was curious to know in what and how much danger my 12 oz of cola a day (or 24 oz every other or every few days) habit placed me. So, though I usually delete most forwards, I decided to check this one out.
To my relief (and utter shock), I discovered that the review concerned people who drank two to seven liters of cola a day. (!) This fact makes the article almost too outlandish. Instead of taking my cola consumption seriously, I sat there and thought, "Duh." It is almost certain that people who consume such large quantities of cola face many more health concerns than the one mentioned in the article, especially considering that their other lifestyle decisions are likely to be equally as out of control. Most disturbing is the mention of two pregnant women who consumed 3 and up to 7 liters a day. They were each admitted to the hospital with low potassium levels, complaining of weakness and fatigue, among other things. Those poor babies!
Wow. So, sadly, instead of coming away with a resolve to drink less cola, I feel pretty good about my cola consumption, due to this article! While I usually think I should cut back to a can every few days, what I've just read makes my cola drinking seem the picture of moderation.
And I guess that's what I come away with when I read this and other articles like it: that moderation is the key. There are plenty of health nuts out there who, (I didn't say it--my husband did!) look like they're ten years older than they are, and then there are people who die very young of heart disease and other health-related illnesses. But there are those seventy-and eighty-something men and women who have never cut out red meat, butter, eggs, colas, sugar or carbs from their diets, who do not overly exercise, who have stayed healthy and trim and have few health concerns. If asked about their diets, the list will often include many of the supposed no-nos in food trends. I am more and more convinced the importance is not in what is consumed, but how much.
As to cutting back on my Cherry Coke habit, it would seem I'll need a more relevant article to open my eyes to the dangers and health risks of one cola a day.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Does Sacrifice Even Begin to Describe It?
Motherhood, if it is done well, involves an insane amount of sacrifice.
Conveniently, (as Mother's Day is tomorrow) I have been recently noticing all the little things my own mother taught and instilled in me decades ago.
As I work with my three little girls, teaching them practical and everyday things, I am reminded of how much my mom poured into me, and how much of an easier transition I had into "real life" than the average girl because of all she taught me.
Take this morning: Ruby is helping me make breakfast and I ask her if she can remember how to mix waffle batter. Ironically, she answers, "Very thoroughly?" and I remind her that we want to mix batter very little so the waffles won't be tough. How do I know this? Because, once upon a time, I was the little girl learning lessons in the kitchen from my mother.
And a little later at the breakfast table: a mini-grammar lesson; explaining why we use the words "may I" or "will you," instead of "can" when we ask for something. I suddenly am struck with how frequently I pass along the little tidbits my mom once taught me. Be it an efficient way of doing something, the right way to apologize, or a Scripture verse set to music, I cannot count the number of times already in their short lives that I have responded to the question, "Who taught you that, Mommy?": "Nana taught me that when I was little."
By God's grace, I have my mom to thank for giving me a head start in every day living. Teaching me to do my own laundry from the time I was barely tall enough to put my clothes into the washer (with big sister helping); walking me through numerous aspects of baby and child care; including me in the cycle of daily chores and requiring that I help make dinner, menu plan and grocery shop, to name a few life skills. (Not to mention the formal education of homeschooling!)
About 10 years ago, as a counselor at a camp for high school and college students, I began to realize what a difference that upbringing made for me. At the front desk, I often had puzzled students in their teens and twenties ask how one goes about doing things like laundry, and it struck me that parents who don't teach their children simple things like this are doing them (and their children's spouses) a disservice. As if going out to the real world isn't hard enough, these parents compound the stress their children experience leaving home by not requiring them to learn simple life skills beforehand. So junior has to not only learn how to make it on his own, but how to do menial tasks that he could have learned and mastered years ago.
So parents who teach their children daily life skills have my respect, naturally. But my mom did so much more than just that. She is probably the most unselfish person I know. By her example she has taught me so much more than how to cook or diagram a sentence or set up a ratio (like that example, Mom?:). Throughout my life, I have seen her faithfully put her own needs (I'm not even talking desires) on the back burner in order to serve her family. Honestly, I have no idea how my parents raised all eight of us without going bonkers, and how my mom made it through those years with so much on her plate. Each day with my three girls gives me a small taste of what it must have been like, and my appreciation for her dedication grows the longer I have the privilege of being a mommy.
I can't end this post without expressing gratitude for another mom: my husband's. Sandy, you raised an amazing young man. Thank you for pouring yourself into your boys with such fervor and love. I am a happy benefactor of your years of hard work. Know that I appreciate you on a daily basis!
Happy Mother's Day, all you moms! Children don't always voice it, but we are indeed grateful for all your sacrifice and dedication. May God make all of us moms worthy of the task He's entrusted to us.
Conveniently, (as Mother's Day is tomorrow) I have been recently noticing all the little things my own mother taught and instilled in me decades ago.
As I work with my three little girls, teaching them practical and everyday things, I am reminded of how much my mom poured into me, and how much of an easier transition I had into "real life" than the average girl because of all she taught me.
Take this morning: Ruby is helping me make breakfast and I ask her if she can remember how to mix waffle batter. Ironically, she answers, "Very thoroughly?" and I remind her that we want to mix batter very little so the waffles won't be tough. How do I know this? Because, once upon a time, I was the little girl learning lessons in the kitchen from my mother.
And a little later at the breakfast table: a mini-grammar lesson; explaining why we use the words "may I" or "will you," instead of "can" when we ask for something. I suddenly am struck with how frequently I pass along the little tidbits my mom once taught me. Be it an efficient way of doing something, the right way to apologize, or a Scripture verse set to music, I cannot count the number of times already in their short lives that I have responded to the question, "Who taught you that, Mommy?": "Nana taught me that when I was little."
By God's grace, I have my mom to thank for giving me a head start in every day living. Teaching me to do my own laundry from the time I was barely tall enough to put my clothes into the washer (with big sister helping); walking me through numerous aspects of baby and child care; including me in the cycle of daily chores and requiring that I help make dinner, menu plan and grocery shop, to name a few life skills. (Not to mention the formal education of homeschooling!)
About 10 years ago, as a counselor at a camp for high school and college students, I began to realize what a difference that upbringing made for me. At the front desk, I often had puzzled students in their teens and twenties ask how one goes about doing things like laundry, and it struck me that parents who don't teach their children simple things like this are doing them (and their children's spouses) a disservice. As if going out to the real world isn't hard enough, these parents compound the stress their children experience leaving home by not requiring them to learn simple life skills beforehand. So junior has to not only learn how to make it on his own, but how to do menial tasks that he could have learned and mastered years ago.
So parents who teach their children daily life skills have my respect, naturally. But my mom did so much more than just that. She is probably the most unselfish person I know. By her example she has taught me so much more than how to cook or diagram a sentence or set up a ratio (like that example, Mom?:). Throughout my life, I have seen her faithfully put her own needs (I'm not even talking desires) on the back burner in order to serve her family. Honestly, I have no idea how my parents raised all eight of us without going bonkers, and how my mom made it through those years with so much on her plate. Each day with my three girls gives me a small taste of what it must have been like, and my appreciation for her dedication grows the longer I have the privilege of being a mommy.
I can't end this post without expressing gratitude for another mom: my husband's. Sandy, you raised an amazing young man. Thank you for pouring yourself into your boys with such fervor and love. I am a happy benefactor of your years of hard work. Know that I appreciate you on a daily basis!
Happy Mother's Day, all you moms! Children don't always voice it, but we are indeed grateful for all your sacrifice and dedication. May God make all of us moms worthy of the task He's entrusted to us.
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