Category: May 2011 (Motherhood)

Take a Tablespoon of Mommy Guilt…and VOILA!

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by JMathis, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

By JMathis

Being a mom is inherently a lifetime of worry, guilt and walking on eggshells.

You have the world telling you that if your kid is not in gymnastics, ballet, soccer and swimming lessons (all at once), she’s doomed to be a couch potato…for life.

That if she eats a cookie everyday, she’s headed towards adult obesity.

That if she watches more than exactly 1.3 hours of television each day, she will end up being a violent member of society.

That if you don’t read to her at night, she’ll never do well on her SATs.

That if she isn’t being stimulated enough in daycare, you ruin her chances of getting into a good college.

As a mom, you hear fragments of these conversations in your head on a minute-by-minute basis, as you drive your kids to school, juggle a career, make them dinner, put them to bed.

So, you start developing your own rules. Rules that you think will churn out the perfect kid.

My rule was simple for my daughter: I’m not raising a princess.

This way, she’s guaranteed to go to Harvard on a golf scholarship, and become the scientist who cures Alzheimer’s.

As AbbyA would probably say, I was so determined to think “out of the box”, that by defining and limiting God, I just ended up being trapped in an even smaller box of my own making.

Fortunately for me, God had other plans.

He gave my daughter a daddy who daily gives her permission to be a soft princess who loves pink and the sweeter things in life. Who teaches her that you don’t have to scrape and claw your way in this world, and that you deserve to be treated by a man with utmost gentleness and kindness.

God gave her that balance so that her neurotic mother wouldn’t dictate to her the perils of being a girlie girl in the 21st century. So that I wouldn’t be allowed to dump a lifetime of my hangups, insecurities and psychobabble on her.

Fortunately for me, God had other plans.

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the LORD. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. Isaiah 55:8

Princess, Get Out of the Box!

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by Sasha Katz, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

By AbbyA

Just to recap, JMathis quoted her husband yesterday.  “Every girl is a princess, whether she realizes it or not, and she deserves to be treated as such.”  The follow up to this comment is FEMINIST UPHEAVAL – – not by The National Organization for Women or your local women’s studies program – – by JMathis  herself.

We have all of these categorical boxes that we are in or want to be in.  Feminist.  Christian.  Post-Modern.  Politically Correct.  Professional.  Stay at Home Mom.  In a Relationship.  Married.  Whatever it is for you.  We are some of these things.  We strive to be some of these things.  What is it about the box?  What is it that fuels our desire for others to see us in a particular light?

Take JMathis.  The feminist within is cringing at the princess treatment.  Is she cringing because she really doesn’t want the royal treatment or is she cringing in fear of losing her kick-butt persona on the street?    Take me.  I really am good at what I do professionally – – God made that happen, not me.  BUT, put me around a group of stay at home supermoms and I automatically feel like a pathetic loser who is robbing her kids of quality time.  Or, take me again.  I have this really great partner who happens to not believe in God.  Put me around a bunch of equally-yoked couples and I feel like my relationship with God is being judged.  Is it harder to be who you are or harder to not be who everyone wants or expects you to be?

Let me tell you more.  I was in some serious bondage about the current state of my life.  Christian +Mom + Full Time Working + Recovering from the Real Estate Market Crash + Husband who thinks Christians are Hypocrites.  Staring at God with a blank face.  I felt left behind by my professional girlfriends who stopped working when baby #2 came along.  I felt left behind by my girlfriends who had the appearance of happy marriage and multiple kids.  I felt left behind by colleagues who could work without constraints such as heading out to pick the kids at 3pm or giving excuses for the noise in the background.  I really didn’t fit in anywhere.  Or so I thought.

Over a few month period, I met some really amazing younger women.  I met a coffee shop barista who was taking a semester off from college to work on her relationship with God and find direction.  I met a full time “house mom” for a bunch of pregnant teenagers in a group home.  She was deciding whether to stick with the group home or head out to Thailand to study to be a midwife.  I met a college softball player who was thinking about leaving for China to learn to teach English abroad.  Not one of these ladies made a big difference to me until I had met them all.  I was talking to my mom one morning as I aimlessly tried to find my son’s away football game field.  And, somehow, God, in a tender way, blew out my box.  He intended for me to see in these girls His passion and calling on their lives in out of the box directions.  He intended for me to see the value of a life that went in His direction.  This is the day that I stopped caring about what I looked like from the outside.

God is so out of the box.  His plans for each of us are so far and wide.  He intended for me to work and be a mom and stand for all of the other Christian mamas who are too afraid to admit their husband’s unsaved or their marriage is not perfect.  That is my box and there is no other box that my life would fit in.  We can’t live in glass walls.  Square pegs don’t fit in round holes.  We can’t thrive if we are starving for air in a life that wasn’t meant for us anyway.

So, JMathis, I love the feminist in you.  I love the feminist in you because you know that your political view doesn’t supersede God’s very specific and amazing plan for your life.  And, don’t get me wrong, pray for my unsaved husband!  At the beginning and end of every day, seek Him, know who you are in Him and live that out every second of every day until you see His very face.  For whoever loses his life for Him will surely find it.  Matthew 16:25.

Your Carriage Awaits, Princess

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by JMathis, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

By JMathis

My family is inundated with girls. On my dad’s side, out of fourteen cousins, only two are boys. On my mom’s side, even though we cousins seem evenly split between the sexes, it is a roost ruled by aunts, with my three uncles coddled as princes by my mom and her gaggle of sisters.

Boys were so prized by my family and my culture, that early on, I felt compelled to be the son that my parents never had in order to appear that I had value, worth, and something of substance to contribute to society. In life, I played the role of tomboy well—I fished a lot, collected tadpoles, challenged boys to race me, and didn’t mind getting dirty. I hated makeup, dressing up and anything associated with being “girlie”. As I grew older, my best friends were guys, and I always looked to them as role models to develop my worldview, my sense of humor and my intellect.

One of these guys turned out to be my husband, who I just idolized (and still do) for his razor-sharp wit, sarcasm and the fact that he is “wicked smaaahhht” (as they say in Boston). From a biological perspective, I think I saw his brilliance and just knew that needed to be incorporated into my gene pool (hey, get your mind out of the gutter!). In him, I thought I was getting everything that I lacked as a “girl”—the skills needed to problem-solve, be analytical and the ability to take life by the metaphorical “balls”.

The interesting thing is, even though I spent my whole life trying to be a boy like my husband, the one thing he taught me was how to be a girl. Not just any girl, but a princess—even a queen. Yes, we fight, get on each other’s nerves and want to kill each other at least every other day, but through it all, my husband dotes on me hand and foot. Despite the fact that he may be a total neanderthal at times, he makes me elaborate breakfasts on the weekends, does my laundry (and really well, to boot—he hand-treats stains, separates whites from colors, puts delicates in a separate load and even folds my underwear!) and tucks me into bed by singing me to sleep.

My whole life, I looked down on other girls for wanting all of this and yet, he gave me the one thing I thought I abhorred…the right to be and feel like a princess.

Of course, you would think that I would bask in all of this royal treatment, but I actually fight it tooth and nail (even though I secretly love it), especially when it comes to how he treats our daughter. While I am hell-bent on raising a “tough girl”, he is just as determined to turn her into daddy’s little princess. For Christmas, I bought her a Black and Decker toolset, and he buys her a library of princess fairy tales. I buy her clothes in earth-tones and camouflage, and he buys her pink tutus and tiaras.

This causes me to jump all over him and scream, “Princesses don’t cure cancer! Princesses don’t care about math and science! Princesses don’t become world leaders! Princesses only care about their looks and boys!”

And, what does he say in retort to my daily rants?

“Every girl is a princess, whether she realizes it or not, and she deserves to be treated as such.”

While the feminist in me just cringes at such a remark, the girl who is the daughter of the King of the Universe sees some spiritual truth in this statement.

While I lose tons of street cred in writing this (and you will never hear me utter this out loud with my lips), I think he might be right. Not in the Disney princess sort of way, but in the way that only God can see His creation, His church—as a bride, beautiful, majestic and flawless, worthy of honor and praise.

Ephesians 5:25-27

Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave Himself for it; That He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the Word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.

Ladies, the truth is, you are princesses and you deserve to be treated as such. If you don’t see yourself as a princess, you’re not seeing yourself as God sees you. When you look in the mirror and can only see the junk-in-the-trunk and the not-so-perky boobs, you denigrate the image that God has of you as a woman—as a princess. If your boyfriend or husband cannot, will not or does not treat you with love, honor and respect, he desecrates the image that God has of you as a woman—as a princess.  

While you may never change how your family, friends or your significant other perceives or treats you, you can change how you perceive and treat yourself. If you see yourself as anything less than the royal priesthood that has been bestowed upon you, you turn your back on all of the blessings, opportunities and riches that God has planned for your royal destiny.  

You are a princess, and you deserve to be treated as such. You may not realize it and others may not realize it, including your own husband and kids. But, guess what? God realizes it, and He has from the second He laid eyes on you.

Embrace, treasure and cherish that you are royalty. 

Your carriage awaits, princess…

Psalms 45:10-17

 10 Listen to me, O royal daughter; take to heart what I say.
      Forget your people and your family far away.
 11 For your royal husband delights in your beauty;
      honor him, for he is your lord.
 12 The princess of Tyre[c] will shower you with gifts.
      The wealthy will beg your favor.
 13 The bride, a princess, looks glorious
      in her golden gown.
 14 In her beautiful robes, she is led to the king,
      accompanied by her bridesmaids.
 15 What a joyful and enthusiastic procession
      as they enter the king’s palace!                                                                                         

16 Your sons will become kings like their father.
      You will make them rulers over many lands.
 17 I will bring honor to your name in every generation.
      Therefore, the nations will praise you forever and ever.

Happy Mother’s Day

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by Sasha Katz, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

By AbbyA

JMathis had to mention the Proverbs 31 woman, didn’t she?  I actually don’t mind her too much.  She works. Prov. 31:16, 24.  She’s involved in her community.  Prov. 31:20.  She has a maid. Prov. 31:15.  She’s sexy, dresses well and has great things to say.  Prov. 31:18 (her light doesn’t go out at night), 22, 26.  Not bad.  The praise of this woman is wrapped up in verse 30 – – Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, But a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.

Mmmm, well, I don’t think of myself as particularly charming.  Certainly smiley, but not chatty or nearly charismatic  enough to be charming.  But, beauty, that’s a bit more of a personal question.  What do you think about yourself?  Wherever your confidence falls on the 1-10 scale, we can all agree that IT IS PASSING.

I used to make light of my girlfriend’s passing birthdays.  She’s about four years older than I am.  I laughed as she carried on about turning 30.  I told her it didn’t matter when she turned 35.  Now that I am 35, I shut up really fast when she mused sarcastically about turning 40 this fall.  Ugh.  It is passing.

Sometimes I take my first a.m. look in the mirror and determine that I either have two black eyes or I am seriously aging.  I remember giving my best newborn advice to my pregnant best friend – – pull off brushing your teeth before your husband wakes up and you’ve done well.  I more recently have taken my mom’s advise – – after years of not wearing make-up – – once you turn 35, don’t leave home without it!

So, for me, charm is irrelevant, beauty IS passing, but a woman who fears the Lord . . . The fearing the Lord concept is, I think, perfect.  But the language doesn’t translate very well.  To me, the fear concept is my acknowledgement that I am very small and broken and He is very big and whole.  Even when I fail, the rocks cry out in praise of Him. Luke 19:40.   That is a creation that fears the Lord.  I can do the same.

That leaves us with praise from Him.  I will tell you that this is recent find for me.  I have spent a whole lot of time feeling partially unworthy and inadequate. Not the kind that causes you to hide under a turtle shell, but the kind that holds you back from really receiving the love of the Lord.  Now, because God is so good, He used my faulty feelings about myself to bring me squarely face to face with Him.  And in my inadequacy and failures and independent choices, He makes sweet, pink lemonade.  And then He really bursts my heart by giving me the credit for becoming more like Him.  He gives me praise.

AbbyA and Her Proverbs 31 Mom

That’s where I am going to leave you this Mother’s Day weekend.  Receive your praise.  I bet this weekend you are going to get some handmade cards, maybe flowers, sweetie-pie kisses.  You may even feel the Holy Spirit reminding you how faithful you have been with your little ones and how He is so pleased with you.   Drink it in.  Don’t wait as long as I did to see how much He loves you and how little He cares about your human failures.   Belt it out in praise of Him; He’s right back atcha!

BE VULNERABLE

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by Sasha Katz, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

By AbbyA

So I definitely know about the COW syndrome.  And, I certainly admit to being more than tipsy – – okay South Beach 5am tipsy – –  when my second was conceived.  JMathis and Bindu are not ALONE.  And isn’t it just that kind of secret that keeps us Christians zipped up with lock and key.

Secrets.  Knocked up tipsy.  Don’t admit it.  Admiring your Pamela Anderson size milky boobs.  Only in your closet.  Beat up car in a parking lot of apparently deserving wealthy people.  Keep smiling.  Alcoholic husband left you (for real) at the Easter celebration in your PreK’ers class.   I must be an idiot.  Yes, Christian husband got snipped.  Is it okay to shoot blanks?  Walking alone married on a Christian campus of perfect couples.  Not good enough.  Not smart enough.  Not rich enough.  Secrets.

Be vulnerable.  Not because there is anything just so fabulous about you or me.  In fact, that’s the point.  Not because your walk is perfect or you have all of the wisdom.   Be vulnerable.  Yes, you can reveal your needy, imperfect self.  Because, somehow, you end up looking into the eyes of your hurting friend and you set her free.  That would be the opposite of keeping your deep-dark secret.  The truth is that it probably isn’t that dark.  The truth is that it is probably just deep enough for you to reach out to change your friend’s view of herself.  Change her outlook.  Pull out her beauty.  Set her free.

In her chat on friends, Lisa Whelchel talks about how she learned how to choose and be a friend as an adult.  She passed on some most excellent advice.  (My paraphrase)  Find a Christian woman that looks like she is a big mess.  She shows up to drop off occassionally looking like a bomb shot off at her house.  She has blown it big and everyone knows it.  The beautiful, all together ladies don’t talk to her.  That is just the kind of friend you want.  She will never leave you, she’ll tell you her secrets and she’ll keep yours.  Freedom.  Be vulnerable.  Even He laid down His life for His friends.  John 15:13.

Welcome to Key West

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by JMathis, May 2011 (Motherhood)2 Comments

By JMathis

One of my favorite all-time memories is spending New Year’s weekend in Key West. As a good Christian girl, I know I’m not supposed to admit to loving all that hedonism and mayhem, but man, was that a fun weekend. Picture the love-child between Mardi Gras and watching the ball drop in Times Square. Yep, that’s New Year’s Eve in Key West…except the crystal ball is a big ‘ol conch shell the size of Cuba (or, a big red stiletto heel down the street), and all the freezing people in ski jackets are actually drag queens. You throw inhibitions out the window, and bam, you get knocked up.

Oh, whoops. I guess that was just me.

What happens in Key West, stays in Key West, I guess.

Um, except it didn’t. Nine months later, there was a BABY in my house—a real, live baby! And, guess what? That baby stayed over three months later for New Year’s Eve. And, the New Year’s Eve after that. And, the New Year’s Eve after that. And, the New Year’s Eve after that.

You get my drift, don’t you? I will never, ever, ever have a New Year’s Eve like I did in Key West that weekend. In fact, until this kid is 16, I think I can pretty much kiss New Year’s Eves goodbye. That’s the one night even babysitters go out, for crying out loud!

A Proverbs 31 wife would probably say, “Who cares, you ninny? Who needs to waste away (or get wasted) on New Year’s Eve? It just gives me more time to select wool and flax, make clothing and bedspreads for my children, prepare meals for the week, feed the poor and sell hand-made scarves to merchants for a profit…all in one night!” Yay, Proverbs 31 wife. You go, girl.

Me, on the other hand, I still mourn for all of the New Year’s Eves I will never know, will never meet and will never experience.

I know. Childish, right?

But, guess what? That’s okay. It’s okay to grieve a little, ladies, for parenthood truly is the first time one becomes an adult. Next to accepting Christ, it’s the single biggest adjustment you will make in your life. For many years, you followed one path as ‘footloose and fancy free’ as you could be, and with one screech of the record, like Bindu said, you become a mom. Your life is changed in one fell swoop.

When Paul said in I Corinthians 13:11 to put away childish things, he didn’t promise it would be easy. In fact, in Philippians 2:12, he told us to continue to work at our salvation with fear and trembling. In the same way you don’t become a model Christian overnight, you’re not going to become a model parent overnight. In the same way you might not love everything about being a Christian, you may not love everything about being a parent.

We always hear that the second we follow Christ, poof, we instantly become new creatures. While the Bible tells us that we indeed do, it often takes a lifetime for us to realize this fact. It’s the same thing with motherhood. Poof. One day, you instantly become a parent. For better or for worse, it often takes a lifetime for us to realize this fact.

Doesn’t make you any less of a Christian, or any less of a mom.

And, that’s okay.

After all, we are not perfect. We’re redeemed.

Sex, Lies, and Motherhood Part II

On By femmefuelIn Best of Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, May 2011 (Motherhood)Leave a comment

To read Part I of this blog, please click here.

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

This was it. This was why they had been created. So contrary to what Playboy magazine may try to convince us, women’s breasts were more than just merely decorative. They actually had a purpose (although I had to admit, I could have given Pamela Anderson some competition). So once I came to the accept the fact that my breasts had a true functional role in life other than just to fill out a blouse or create lustful thoughts in my husband, I had to also accept that for the next one year, my breasts were not my own. I was a cow. A cow in its truest, rawest functional sense. One that could produce disease-fighting, health-promoting, immunity-boosting benefits for my newly born spawn. I could be depressed about it or I could try to see myself empowered. I am a woman. I had created this little life. Or more accurately, God had created life through me. I looked at myself in the mirror, placed my hands squarely on my childbearing hips, stuck out my sore breasts in pride, sucked in my stomach (or as far in as it would go in) and repeated as confidently as I could…

I am woman. Hear me moo.

But nursing, or in my case, trying to nurse was not my only motherhood challenge.

Motherhood, I found, was also the end of life as I knew it. And I think for me that was the hardest part. I enjoyed my life. It wasn’t an exciting life. I wasn’t out at nightclubs or at the beach. I wasn’t at parties or bars. Granted, I probably wasted much of my time doing absolutely nothing useful or productive for mankind. I’ll be the first to admit that I probably spent most of my pre-motherhood time languidly lounging on the couch (in a flowing white gauzy robe nonetheless) while staring mindlessly for hours at the television, watching whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.  But it was my time. Mine to decide what I wanted to do and mine to do decide when I wanted to do it. Now “my time” is confined to the four walls of my bathroom, the one place where I can close the doors, have some privacy, have some quality quiet time and find solace.  For 10 minutes.

Motherhood was also the end of another favorite pastime of mine. Sleep. Good old fashioned “put your head on the pillow and don’t open your eyes till morning” sleep. I’m talking the real decadent kind of sleep. The sleep ‘til really, really late in the morning. At least until 9:30am! Now my beauty sleep gets constantly interrupted with my daughter waking up for milk periodically through the night. And by periodically, I mean, at the minimum, three to four times.

Oh, wait, you wonder. How old is your daughter? A year and a half. And she’s still waking up for milk in the night? I thought that stopped at 3 months. Yeah, I reply with a tight-lipped grimace. So did I. Apparently I got the one child out of a 100 that can’t seem to stop wanting milk at night.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, you murmur to me with a shaking of you head. You must stop that bad habit right away. You should just let her cry through the night. Yeah, I reply with a tight-lipped grimace. I should. But apparently I married the one husband out of a 100 who values sleep less than letting his sweet baby girl cry for more than 5 seconds at any given time.

Yes, motherhood was definitely the end of many things for me. Some of which (mindless tv…reading…sleeping…sigh) I really miss. And I’m still reading the same book I bought just days before I went into labor. I’m proud to admit that I am making progress. I have now hit chapter three. At this rate, it looks like I’m at a good pace to finish it up just as we drive Ava off to college.

So why do we do it? Or more importantly, why did I do it?  After all, I knew, didn’t I? I knew. Or at least I thought I did.  The twelve years younger sister aka Little Sis—the very person who was the major reason I was so reluctant to take motherhood on so quickly after marriage. In reality, as much work as I remember my baby sister being, it’s nothing compared to being the actual parent…but today she remains the very reason I know that no matter how much work, how exhausted I feel, how frustrated I feel, how much I have to give up (albeit even unwillingly)…in the end, motherhood is all worth it.

I know that just like that little sibling I so desperately wanted who also came so many years later than I wanted…I now cannot imagine my life without my little sister, just as I now cannot imagine my life without my daughter. Both are blood. Through thick and thin. Through stupid fights and misunderstandings, we have ties that bind us. And although Little Sis is 12 years younger, there are some advantages to that, I’ve come to realize. We have a deal. I changed her diapers, and one day she’ll change mine.

I figure between her and Ava, I’m covered. For life.