Practice for motherhood -
Open your hands.
Learn to hold loosely;
Learn to let go.

You carry a child nine months;
You are their everything.
But from the moment they take their first breath,
You begin to let go.

To let others hold them;
To let them take first, shaky steps;
To say, “Go ahead,”
And watch them walk away a smile on your face
And tears in your soul.

You let them try, and fail;
You let them do it alone -
And hide your dismay when they succeed.
But not really.

Because all mothers know deep down
Our children are not meant to stay.
They are not given to need us,
But because the world needs them.

Needs them to stand on their own feet;
To give what only they can give;
To be themselves,
Not little copies of us.

So we let them go drive;
We let them go shopping;
We let them go, and come,
And we learn to hug and let go.

And that is why grandmothers are such valuable people –
They have learned to let go.

It’s funny the things we bring over from our childhood. Almost every day growing up I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. I didn’t hate them (as at least one of my siblings avowedly did), but I certainly never would have predicted that they would become one of my go-to comfort foods as an adult. The beloved staple of toddlers is surprisingly kind to a queasy pregnant stomach, and if made with natural peanut butter (I don’t) and whole wheat bread (I do) that are also pretty healthy. Add some milk for the perfect afternoon missed-my-nap pick-me-up.

So here’s to the humble peanut butter sandwich – and surviving until daddy comes home.

The sun is shining today, the sky is blue. I open the front door and let the children out, wearing only lightweight hoodies. They run squealing down the walk. In my heart, I join them.

Spring is on the way!

Fellow mothers, please listen to me. I have something that you need to hear.

Yes, you.

Being a mother is not easy. It is wonderful, joyful, a tremendous privilege, even fun sometimes; but it is not easy. Soon after my first son was born I discovered what felt like no-win situations suddenly cropping up in every area of my life. With each additional year of motherhood, they multiply.

Maybe it’s just me. In that case, hear me out, if only so you can understand me better. I know you have it all figured out. You know what’s best for your family, and you always do it. But me? I’m not a perfect mom. Sometimes I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I choose to do something that you think is dangerous, harmful, careless, stupid, or just plain wrong. Unfortunately, you don’t all agree on what those things are. I can’t ever make you all happy.

Sarcasm aside, there are ever-so-many situations we find ourselves in as mothers where we must make a choice, and sometimes no matter what choice we make, someone is going to think it was the wrong one. I honestly can’t even fairly divide myself between my two children and my husband. Sometimes one child has to cry because I can only carry one at once. Sometimes my husband has to wait for an answer to an important question, or for his dinner, because a little person needs to nurse, be changed, or go to sleep. I have no hope of ever making the mommy-police happy!

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about! You can just tuck your advice back where it came from. I don’t need you to tell me about scheduling, or sleep training, or baby wearing, or floor time, or anything else. In all reality, even with that wonderful solution you’ve found, admit it; you can’t do it all either.

We aren’t meant to.

And yet there is tremendous pressure on us, as mothers, to do it all. To be perfect. To have all the answers, to not be weak. To be right. I don’t understand it all; but I do know it’s a nasty, self-perpetuating cycle. I feel I must defend my parenting choices – for you, or to silence the doubts in my own head, I don’t know. But what I do know is that my defense of my choice makes you feel that you must defend yours (if it is different) or join me in condemning others who haven’t chosen to do it the way we have. It makes us feel good. It doesn’t make them feel good.

The issues are endless. They start before the baby is even born. Doctor or midwife? Hospital or home? Medicated or natural? Or (tongue-in-cheek horrors!) a c-section?

There’s what we feed them. Breast or bottle? Formula or goats milk? Baby-led weaning? Early solids? Organic? Fruits or vegetables? Vegan, vegetarian, gluten free? Homemade or store bought?

Do you vaccinate? Cloth-diaper? Co-sleep? Infant potty-train? Yes? No? Then good, you’re in! Or out, sorry. You must not love your children enough.

Sometimes our decisions are based on much research and what we feel is best for the health of our family. Sometimes they are based on cost, convenience, or environmental factors. Almost always we have a good reason for the choices we’ve made. I don’t freak out about my children getting dirty. I agree with recent research (rare occurrence!) that strong, healthy children need to be exposed to dirt and germs in order to develop a healthy immune system. I’m also not going to spend my very limited energy stressing out over keeping my house spotless and my two active toddlers out of the mud! But see that mom over there? Yeah, the one with the obsessive hand-sanitizer habit. Did you know she has a child with a compromised immune system who lands in the hospital every time a simple cold comes through her family? No? I wish you had before you gave her that lecture about super-bugs and how she’s making the world a dangerous place for all of us!

The choices multiply as the children grow. In addition to food and health issues, there are matters of discipline – (Your children don’t say yes ma’am? Gasp!) and education (Public? Private? Home? Classical? Unschooling?). There are different ways of handling peer friendships, adolescent freedoms, and individual likes and dislikes. You don’t allow picky eating? Good for you! (Did I ask?)

As if that all isn’t enough, we must needs judge each others’ house keeping skills too. And how much we do ourselves – you can? And sew? And cook from scratch? You garden? Raise animals? Make your own soap? I’m so glad you don’t expose your family to harsh chemicals! And have you ever seen that McDonald’s burger after a year…?

Now, for some of you, I know you have the luxury of always being able to choose the ideal in every situation. But most of us poor mortal mothers occasionally do something just because it works for us.

I know women who would love to breast feed their babies. But for whatever reason, breast feeding, for them, involves hours of pumping and supplementing and working with a bad latch or a low milk supply. And guess what? Some decide it’s well worth it. They put everything on hold for six months in order to give their baby the benefits of breast milk and nursing.

Good for them!

But guess what else? Some decide that it’s more important to make sure their baby is fed, their other children have a mother who isn’t always attached to a pump, and they stay sane. They let go; they choose to bottle feed. And you know what I say?

Good for them.

Friends, it’s just not always as cut-and-dried, as black-and-white, as we’d like to make it! Why do we give each other such a hard time?

Is it because we are so used to having to defend our parenting practices to our critics? Do we not realize that we are doing the same thing to other moms that hurts so when people do it to us? Isn’t there a better way to relate and encourage each other than this constant berating that sends us all home in tears over our perceived failure to be supermom?

Here’s what the apostle Paul had to say about these things.

“Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ.”

“If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations-’Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch’ (referring to things that all perish as they are used)-according to human precepts and teachings?”

“Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand. One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God.”

I don’t think I’m misusing these verses. If we are not to judge each other in unspecified matters of religion, how much less in things that pertain only to this world? Let us encourage one another to love and good works, and where we differ in these non-essentials, let us learn to shut up.

Amen.

The end of 2011, and I’ve definitely not been regular here! But I had a thought today that might be a good way for mothers (and other people!) to pass from one year into the next.

It’s just this question: does it matter?

I remember being a child and the wonderful feeling we got when the house was clean. Wait, you thought children didn’t care if the house was clean? Well, I can’t blame you; as soon as the floors were cleared we got a wonderful urge to… get out all our toys.

I’m glad that Mama made us clean things up; but I’m also glad she realized that wasn’t the only thing that mattered. You can always clean the floor up again later. Why not enjoy life in this moment and only stress about the stuff that really matters.

Ok, so maybe not stressing at all would be better.

Try it! Next time you’re taking life too seriously, ask yourself: does it really matter?

I’m not Supermom.

I’m not even a good mom, sometimes.

Lots of times?

We eat store-bought bread.

(And spaghetti sauce. And cookies. And yogurt.)

Somebody else folds my laundry.

I never (and I really mean never) wash all my windows.

Or my floors.

My two year old doesn’t know his colors.

Or shapes.

I don’t get up before my babies In the mornings.

I take a nap every day.

I don’t do it all.

But maybe, just maybe, life isn’t about doing it all.

Maybe it’s about God shining through all our didn’ts and can’ts.

Maybe it’s about learning to accept what is less than perfect.

Even in ourselves.

(please pardon the disjointed thoughts – I’m not myself at three in the morning.)

To feel young again
Wade barefoot in a cold creek;
Sunbathe on the bank.

It’s been one of my bad weeks, which means I’ve had plenty of time to sit around and think. Think of all the things I want to or ought to be doing, and of a dozen wonderful ideas that I would love to do someday but doubt I’ll ever have the energy for.

Limitations force creativity. This is true in most artistic endeavors. Some professional photographers occasionally shoot with a very limited camera to force themselves to focus on creative composition. Poetry, by its very nature, is all about limitations. Some of the world’s greatest composers have been blind. Today, disabled people paint beautiful pictures with their mouths, their feet.

I wish I could learn to use my physical limitations to my advantage. I wish my pain and fatigue would force me to focus on the essentials, on the things that matter, would force me to use my resources creatively and effectively. But for some reason I find the application hard to make.

Have you learned to use a limitation to expand your abilities or effectiveness? I’d love to hear about it – maybe I’ll get inspired.

I asked for a place
To belong; God gave, instead,
Belonging to Him.

I asked for smooth roads;
Instead, God granted me wings
To rise up and fly.

I asked Him for peace;
He made me a peace maker
And then sent me forth.

So all my prayers
He answered in His own way;
And His ways are best.

Blue-gray baby eyes wide awake;
Chubby baby hands pat my cheek.
The sun is up;
so am I.
Motherhood: Joy.