Category Archives: my soap box

not nearly mom enough

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So Time Magazine prints an article about attachment parenting…like it is this new-fangled thing…and places on its cover a picture of a mother who, OH MY GOD, is breastfeeding her child. No, not her adorable, dimply, sweet-smelling baby, but her nearly four year old child.

Oh!

My!

GAWD!

And once again, we mommies, being the tools that we are, react, respond, over-react…just like the media knew that we would.

Seriously?!

Perhaps I was “mom enough” to breastfeed 4 of my 5 children. Perhaps I was “mom enough” to carry my children (and grandchildren around in a sling. Perhaps I was “mom enough” to cloth diaper my children. Perhaps I was “mom enough” to have a family bed. Perhaps I was “mom enough”. But the way I see it was our parenting style was what we did because it worked for us…for our family.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

No judgments.

But regardless of what worked for us, for our family, when our children were small we find that we are not done when they are all grown up, or nearly all grown up.

CRAP!

We’re never going to be done with this!

It is then that I am faced with the reality that while I might have been “mom enough” to breastfeed my children for nearly ten years of my years of being a mother, I am not nearly “mom enough” for the rest of it all…the part that the parents of the younger ones can not see…have no clue about whatsoever…the part that the parents of younger ones imagine to be the part where they are all done. Take note…

YOU ARE NOT DONE THEN!

This part? This part is hard. This part is exhausting.

But it doesn’t get better. Sorry. No.

Are you “mom enough”?

Perhaps we need to stop with the discussion, the judging, the sniping, the shaking of our heads. After all we are all on the same team.

that’s not Jesus

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Four years ago when I found out that I was going to be a grandmother…four years BEFORE I thought I was ready to be a grandmother and most definitely four years BEFORE I thought my first born was ready to be a mother, I found myself confronted with a real parenting dilemma. I always promised my children and myself that I would love them unconditionally…no matter what…even if they did disappoint me…or seriously messed up…or ended up being someone I didn’t want them to be. I did promise that and I meant it. Truly. But when my child came and told me that she was alone and pregnant, I found myself faced with just that.

How should I react?

What do I say?

What do I do?

I hugged her and told that no matter what she did her Daddy and I were going to be with her. She would not be alone.

Here’s where I confess that inside I was beyond upset, stressed and worried for my little girl. I wasn’t 50 yet…which means I wasn’t old enough to be a grandparent…which means she wasn’t old enough to be a mom…she needed to finish school first…she needed the baby’s daddy to be there for her. WTF?! This is not what we planned or what we expected or what we taught her to be or do. What were we all going to do??!!

As the weeks passed and we began preparing for Holly’s Coming Attraction, she shared with me that her circle of friends were genuinely shocked that her parents weren’t angry and had not kicked her out or something like that…for getting knocked up…and being alone…and not being done with school…and not having the income to support herself and a baby…for choosing to have the baby…because that is what their parents would totally do. That made my heart sad to hear that. I mean, what would that solve? She would still be pregnant, alone and vulnerable. The way I saw it was this was definitely a time when she needed her parents’ unconditional love more than ever. It was that time that I began to really realize just how hard that promise could be…would be…and yet how important that promise would be to my children…no matter what they did or who they were. Then I resolved to continue to uphold that promise because I was doing it for the first born child…you KNOW I was going to have to do it with the others because they do carefully compare everything.

No, really.

They do.

All.

The.

Time.

But in all seriousness, I stood by one kid in such a situation how could I not do the same for all my children because, like it or not, they often do crazy things that you don’t plan for like flunk out of school or wreck your car or end up being young, single and pregnant or fall in love with someone you can not stand or tell you that they are gay or join the Tea Party or the New Black Panther Movement, or decide to major in Quidditch…or…or…well, there can be so much more worse things. Still they are your children. They still need you. They still need to know that you love them no matter what.

Who said this parenting thing is so much easier once they get out of diapers? Fools! It is harder. Factor in the fact you are nurturing thinking, brilliant human beings whom you raised and nurtured to believe that they are brilliant and they can do anything. Trust me. You are not done…oh, and you could be screwed.

In the news this week was a sermon preached by Pastor Sean Harris of Berean Christian Church in Fayetteville, North Carolina about marriage. His message was timely because next week’s state vote on an amendment to the state’s constitution that will effectively ban gay marriage in the state of North Carolina. Don’t get me started on the whole idea of preaching politics from the pulpit while expecting government to respect the First Amendment rights. That’s another discussion. This is about Pastor Harris’ exhortation to his congregation on how to deal with their children.

So your little son starts to act a little girlish when he is four years old and instead of squashing that like a cockroach and saying, ‘Man up, son, get that dress off you and get outside and dig a ditch, because that is what boys do,’ you get out the camera and you start taking pictures of Johnny acting like a female and then you upload it to YouTube and everybody laughs about it and the next thing you know, this dude, this kid is acting out childhood fantasies that should have been squashed.

Dads, the second you see your son dropping the limp wrist, you walk over there and crack that wrist. Man up. Give him a good punch. Ok? You are not going to act like that. You were made by God to be a male and you are going to be a male. And when your daughter starts acting too butch, you reign [sic] her in. And you say, ‘Oh, no, sweetheart. You can play sports. Play them to the glory of God. But sometimes you are going to act like a girl and walk like a girl and talk like a girl and smell like a girl and that means you are going to be beautiful. You are going to be attractive. You are going to dress yourself up.

Here is the audio clip…trust me it is disturbing to hear…and here is the sermon in its entirety.

Thank goodness he was just joking and he really didn’t mean it. And thankfully, he apologized, er, retracted it.

But the damage is done. In the name of Jesus he stood before a congregation and said exactly what he says he didn’t mean to say. And it got spread all over the webs. The thing is some people do believe it. In one moment their lips and voices are praising God and the next those same lips and voices are condemning…hating people who are different. I see it all the time with people I know and am acquainted with…people I have sat with in a church. For years I reminded myself that this was not Jesus…not at all. But it is getting so much harder to believe…to ignore. How can one reconcile the promise to their children to love them with an unconditional love like that of Christ when they are agreeing with, amen-ing such hate speech from the pulpit? Imagine that one child sitting in that church last Sunday who might be thinking maybe…or perhaps they know they are gay and are trying to figure out a way to tell Mom and Dad. My heart hurts for that hypothetical child much like it did when Holly shared with me her friends reactions four years ago. The way I see it this might be one of those parenting moments where your child needs to know that you love them no matter what.

And here is where I reiterate my promise to my children…

It is at this moment, this very moment, my son comes down stairs with a goofy grin on his face as he models one of his sister’s girly blouses that he grabbed while “helping” his sister fold her laundry.

And just as Pastor Sean predicted, here I am taking a picture of it and putting it here on my blog…because it is funny…because we are a bunch of silly clowns…because we all laugh over Daniel’s silly sense of humor and the fact that he is the only boy-child in this house that estrogen built. And because we are so damn lucky that this child is our child. And because here under the Big Top we celebrate the normal, the love, the silly all the time.

Don’t worry Pastor Sean, his Daddy stepped up and told him to “get outside and dig a ditch because that is what boys do”…while he laughed, hugged and tickled his silly boy.

Why is it that I am imagining that if Jesus was here right now he would be laughing along with us at this amazing, remarkable child of God?

the new hunger games

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In this news this week…and pissing me off on so many different levels… is the K-E Diet for the blushing bride-to-be who desperately wants to lose 5, 10 or even 20 pounds in just 10 days…no exercise necessary. All you have to do is have a doctor insert a NG tube (naso-gastric tube) into your nose, down your throat, through your esophagus and into your stomach. The tube will be taped securely to your face and attached to a feeding pump that will slowly drip a unique 800 calories/day formula of protein, fats and water.

“It is a hunger-free, effective way of dieting,” Di Pietro said. “Within a few hours and your hunger and appetite go away completely, so patients are actually not hungry at all for the whole 10 days. That’s what is so amazing about this diet.”

Slipping into a wedding gown for a dream wedding is a moment of truth for most brides, but as many say that there is a real fear that it will not quite fit. That’s how Jessica Schnaider says she felt with a June wedding approaching and 10 pounds she says she couldn’t lose. She was desperate for a quick fix.

“I don’t have all of the time on the planet just to focus an hour and a half a day to exercise so I came to the doctor, I saw the diet, and I said, ‘You know what? Why not? Let me try it. So I decided to go ahead and give it a shot,” she said.

I watched this news report sitting next to my son, Daniel…you know, the kid who was fed by feeding tubes the first four years of his life. The kid who could not, would not take food by mouth for those years for so many different reasons…medical and otherwise. The kid who had to learn how to safely chew and swallow food protecting his airway because his left vocal cord is paralyzed. Yeah, THAT KID! He shook his head, while watching this report, and asked why would anyone do that to themselves on purpose…if they didn’t have to. “That is so dumb!”, he declared. And bad mommy that I am, I didn’t chide him for judging someone so harshly…because he is right. He is so very right. Yeah, Jessica Schnaider, my ten year old son thinks you are dumb.

I get the pressure some women put on themselves to achieve an impossible ideal…sort of…kind of. I get the desire for a quick fix that does not involve sensible dieting and exercising…god forbid a bride-to-be actually WORK AND SWEAT to be physically something she really isn’t…something that her fiance did not fall in love with. I do. Or at least I try to imagine what would drive a woman to do this for no other reason than to be skinnier. Okay, fine! I DON’T get it. Not. At. All.

My precious child was fed by an ng tube for most of the 132 days he spent in the NICU. It was only the last three weeks of his NICU stay that he was able, with great difficulty, to take infant formula by a bottle to satisfy his neonatologists who directed his care. But just two months after discharge he abruptly stopped and refused the bottle…completely. There was no other choice but to resume ng feedings…even if his pediatrician thought he was right: that in spite of his extreme premature birth, his chronic lung disease, his reflux and his paralyzed vocal cord there was no reason why an infant would not eat…would starve himself.

This was our reality.

Our life with our beautiful baby boy was all about feeding him by a tube that was placed in his nose that led down to his stomach and was taped securely to his soft cheek.

Strangers would stare, ask what was wrong with our baby and offer all kinds of unsolicited advice and solutions…because it couldn’t be possible that a baby simply would not eat, would starve himself.

Everything I ever believed, learned or did as a mother regarding nutrition and feeding my children I had to let go of with this experience with my child. I had to accept the scrutiny (and sometimes judgments) of professionals and lay-people alike. I had to be the one to re-insert his feeding tube if it was accidentally or purposely dislodged by my baby boy…sometimes daily…and I had to listen to him cry as I did it. Daniel was fed by ng tube until he was 9 months old when his pediatrician and GI specialist reluctantly agreed to our request for a gastrostomy feeding tube. They would only agree because I refused to give continuous 24 hour feedings by ng tube because of the potential for dislodging of the tube and aspiration of feeding into his lungs. It wasn’t until 4 years later that he was finally able to be tube feeding free. Feeding this child still remains a struggle and I imagine it will always be so for him. I hated the feeding tubes…I despised them…but I remain grateful for them because at one point in his life it was the only way to feed him. Having cared for, cried for, prayed for and supported Daniel on this journey I have to wonder like he did…Why? Why would anyone do this to themselves on purpose…just to be skinnier and prettier in a dress that they will wear for but one day?

ABC

Why?

all in all she’s just another Brick

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In the news in the interwebs, we are to feel sorry for poor Samantha Brick.

Really.

I mean look at her.

She’s beautiful…at least she declares that she is. She adds that it is so hard for someone as beautiful as she is. Pilots send flight attendants to offer her bottles of champagne. Bartenders won’t accept her credit card to settle her bar tab. Women hate her. Her female friends especially hate her and don’t trust her because she might steal their men away from them. Her female bosses dislike her and pass her over because she is younger and prettier than they are and because they won’t succumb to her flirtatious wiles.

SIGH!

Oh Samantha!

You are pretty enough. You have a lovely figure clearly because you exercise regularly and don’t drink and never eat chocolate.

(?)

Truly you are blessed….even if you are deprived of the blessed heavenly goodness that is chocolate. But Samantha, while you might be a lovely woman, you are not beautiful. Sorry.

You see what makes a woman beautiful is not her perfect, blonde hair or her slim figure or the fashionable way she dresses and no, not even the confidence she has in her gorgeous out-ward beauty.

No. Not at all.

Dear Samantha, yes the outward package is a part of it and so is the confidence one carries oneself with; but that is but a small part of a beautiful person…a truly beautiful person. What makes a person beautiful is their heart and how they share it with those around them…their friends…their family…their lover…their co-workers…the lady at the bank…the pierced-out barista making their mocha frappuccino…the old man who smells in the express lane at the grocery store with obviously more than 15 items.What makes a person beautiful is the beauty all around them that reflects off of their presence.

If you and I were to be standing side by side you might be right in that you are most likely more attractive than me and the fact that I am nearly ten years older than you and I drink wine and LOVE chocolate could very well be why. But I’m okay with that. I might not be as lovely as you (by your definition) but I stand proud in the truth that I am the mother of some wonderfully amazing people whose beauty shines from deep inside their hearts and souls out past the pretty, pretty shells. I made that beauty that graces this world. I nurtured and cultivated it. I can declare that I have added some much needed beauty in this world that is shared every day just by the lovely nature that is my children’s smiles, their hearts, their tender souls. Samantha, lovely Samantha, THAT is just one thing that makes me beautiful…no matter how old I might become.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.
~ Audrey Hepburn

making our own choices

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My darling daughter #3 is not feeling well. Big surprise because out of all my circus clowns she has always seemed to be the sickliest one…even sicker than her once considered “medically fragile” little brother or sicker than the sister that walked around with mono for weeks unbeknownst to us all because she was just feeling a little run down. No, darling Abigael seems to be vulnerable to every freakin’ bug out there during colds and flu season. Poor thing! Thankfully, because of her once “medically fragile” little brother, this circus act is pretty good in prevention…hand-washing people, it really works.

But back to Abby not feeling well…she has been complaining of what is very likely strep so I suggested she get herself over to the doctor to get it checked and if it is strep get on some amoxicillin. She is 18 so she can do this all by herself…dang HIPAA spoils all my hovering mothering! Actually I am pretty confident in my adult child accessing her own medical care and making decisions. I have tried to bring these clowns up that way to be active participants in their own health care because Mommy Dearest can’t always be there. So yes, I am confident in my grown-up children being advocates for their own healthcare and being more than capable to make the right decisions for themselves when presented with all the information and education.

But it seems lately a lot of states’ governing bodies like Virginia, Alabama, Kansas, Missouri, Arizona and others, politicians on all levels, pundits and anyone with a political blog out there seems to be better capable at making health-care related decisions for my adult daughters than they might be. No, I’m not talking about treating strep throat or getting new glasses but their reproductive health. It would seem that some out there are more qualified to make those kind of decisions for women. Yes, they loudly proclaim it is not about sex or pregnancy prevention or even other matters of female reproductive health, it is about religious freedom and morality.

Um, sure.

Honestly, it is none of my business what decisions my adult age daughters make about their reproductive health…HIPAA tells me so…so why is it anyone else’s business, especially politicians and pundits?? Personally I am proud that my girls are active in making choices like that. They were listening when we would talk about health care, sex and all that stuff. Good job girls! Mommy Dearest is so proud of you!

When Holly came to me more than four years ago to tell me that she was pregnant and alone because Baby Daddy then wanted no part of her problem, I promised her that whatever her choice was, we were there with her. I found myself back then having to remind Baby Daddy of that fact as well. Whether he liked it or not…whether I was ready to be a Mi-ma or not, it was Holly’s choice. I meant it…even if then I declared myself to be pro-life. I have always considered myself to be just that. But when faced with the results of my daughter’s involvement with Baby Daddy then, I realized that it wasn’t my choice…not at all…not ever. As it turned out, Holly, like me, personally would not consider termination as an option for herself…and I am so glad because Hazel is awesome. Still, I meant what I said then to my daughter. No matter what, I was there with her because she is always my baby girl. So yeah, it turns out that I am pro-choice because I trust my girls to make the right choices for themselves.

A few years before my becoming a Mi-ma before I was ready, I cared for a beautiful baby girl born to a dear friend of mine. Her sweet baby was born with Trisomy 18 (just like Rick Santorum’s daughter). Most with Trisomy 18 do not survive pregnancy or birth and those that do usually only live for a few hours or days. The Santorums’ little girl is one of the rare exceptions. My friend found out during the pregnancy the condition of her daughter and she made the choice to continue with the pregnancy because, it was her choice. When presented with all the medical facts, she was more than capable to make the right decision for herself and her family. Of course it isn’t necessarily the right choice for others, as some vocalized then. Still it was her choice and it was the right choice for her. Baby L. lived for six weeks at home with her mommy and daddy before she passed away in her mother’s arms. Yes, her death was very painful but I have no doubt that her family loved her, treasured her and was so happy to enjoy their time with her. That was very evident at her memorial service.

I have to say I am not sure if I would have made the same choice as my friend did if I found myself in the same situation. I guess it is my experiences over the years as a NICU nurse that might shape my feelings. Still, I support my friend in making the right choice for herself. She was more than capable to make it when presented with all the medical information.

It seriously disturbs me that some out there want to make women’s reproductive health THE issue of this election year because women’s access to quality reproductive health care IS the biggest concern right now. Funny, but I’m more worried about the crazy increase in what it costs to fill the gas tank of the mom-car. I seriously stress over our finances, paying a higher percentage in taxes than Mitt, Rick, Newt and the rest of the 1% who clearly have worked harder than I ever have. I worry about why the hell are we STILL in Afghanistan and what we are doing over there.

Seriously, to those politician and pundits out there, back up and re-focus. The decisions my daughters and people like my friend and Mrs. Santorum make about their reproductive health, their pregnancies and their families is not any of our business. What they choose does not interfere with my own religious beliefs or moral code…

Not.

At.

All.

So stop, change your view and focus on what is really important to women who vote like myself and my daughters because we do vote. Yes, just like our health care choices, we are more than capable of deciding how we will vote based on what is important to us right now.