A book to make you laugh and cry

My friend M gave me I Don't Know How She Does It by Allison Pearson to read, saying that it was a book she enjoyed and it's easy to read. It sat around my house for a long time, but I finally started to read it. I stole time to read it during naptime, at the beach, on an airplane and evenings.

I could really relate to the stories of Kate Redding, mother of two with a demanding career and a husband who tries to do his part. The stories show that in fact, no one can do it all and many items on the to-do list don't get done. It also showed how sexism in the workplace still happens. In the workplace, the perspective of a working parent depends on gender (woman ending work day early for family reasons is bad, man ending work day early for family reasons is admirable/heroic). The details of life are often attended to by the woman partner.

It was also one of those books that affirmed my decisions. Reading about her struggles to keep up with the peer pressure from stay-at-home mothers reinforced my decision to opt out of such competitions. I proudly contribute my store-bought goodies to school functions. However, I was seen on a Sunday evening tracing my hand to make turkeys for classroom decorations. In my defense it took an hour and it was a fun, crafty activity with my kid. Even still, I was having flashbacks to the first chapter, which describes Kate marring store-bought pies so they look homemade to avoid being known as a "woman who cuts corners."

The staccato emails between Kate and her friends reminds me of the conversations I have with M. We text occaisionally while she's commuting and we sneak in time to talk between crying children, dinnertime and the commute. Our conversations often end abruptly. "Oh, [one of our kids] is crying/up from nap/needs something. Gotta go." Recently, a friend and I would text at 7:00 a.m. I complained, "It's dark." And we'd compare notes on how it was going. Quickies with friends.

This book covers it all: child care, husbands, bosses, co-workers, sexual harassment, career ladder, battle between mothers, temptation of another and the meaning of life. Because of how it's written, there's a lot of chances to laugh at it all.

But the stark reality can also make you cry. And I thought the ending was a cop-out. Wish I could say more, but you need to read it.

Saturday Night Expectations

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Originally uploaded by caleb is condit

Sometimes when I post on a blog, update a Facebook status or reply to a work email, I realize -- it's Saturday night and I shouldn't be doing those things, I should be out having fun.

Even though it's been probably a LONG time since I had an active social life on weekends, I still think I should have one. I should be listening to live music, enjoying cool coffee houses, staying out too late with friends, dancing. I should be OUT.

I don't know why I think I should be out having fun on weekends. I'm content having fun in my house, doing the things I don't have time for during the week.

Times change and I know that there's a possibility that weekend evenings may once again become more lively. I remember calling my brother who was in high school and at home at around 11 p.m. l. "Where's Mom and Dad?" I asked.

He responded with irritation, "I don't know. They went out and I have no idea when they are coming back." My parents, probably only in their 40s, were out acting like kids--listening to live music and drinking and out late. It was ironic they were out having fun and my high school aged brother was home waiting impatiently for a loved one to return home.

So I have hope. But I'll be in my 50s when my kids are in their teens. Hope I have the energy.

Thankful

My favorite Thanksgiving tradition is going around the table and hearing everyone tell what they're thankful for. It's where personality comes out -- humor, shyness, always know what to say, sweetness, priorities. It's how we announced my son's conception. I'll never forget the whoop of joy. It's a tradition that encourages us all to remember why we're gathered at the table in the first place.

It's not because mashed potatoes are awesome and Mom's pumpkin pie will follow.

We're gathered for thankfulness.

This year, what I'm thankful for:

• My family, especially my children. I love the grown-ups in my life, but my children make life extra sweet.
• My job.
• Friends who are available in person, by phone, through blogging and Twitter, email and Facebook. It feels weird saying that, but it's true.
• A warm place to sleep and to house my children.
  

I'm thankful that even if the "what if"s of life seem big sometimes, there is always faith, hope and love -- they are the simple engine that keeps life moving forward.

Wordless Wednesday

The baby's fingers were taken off by a dog or a scissors, I don't remember how. Recently, I found the baby while cleaning, it was tucked away.

I watched her reaction like an anthropologist/sociologist. How will a young child react? Will her own finger injury impact how she responds?

Compassion, fear, concern

It's hard for her to look away.

Does she remember how her finger was hurt? She insists on a Band-Aid.

Control vs. Teaching and the consequences

I love how the human mind works. Or at least how my brain works. A thought about one topic can inspire a thought about something completely different.

While reading Ruth's open letter to Kate Harding, I had an epiphany of sorts.

There is a common perspective in our culture that children need to be controlled and punished into accepting the control. If parents are successful at controlling their children, then they are considered to be successful parents. Parents who have uncontrolled children, especially in public, are shamed and ostracized. These parents are viewed as a failure because they do not control.

I get sucked into that perspective. When my child acts childish, especially in public, I feel embarrassed, pressured into controlling and like a failure. "I should be better at controlling."

Instead, the perspective we need is that parents are teachers. We teach our children how to:

• Treat others
• Survive and take care of oneself
  
• Communicate
• Navigate social situations
  
• Return to joy after sadness and frustration
  
• Control themselves (notice the control is done by self, not others)
• Navigate relationships
  

This is the short list.

As teachers, we should recognize that our children do not learn all the lessons the first time they are taught. A wise professor once said to me, "Repetition is the mother of learning." (tangent: I guess St. Thomas of Acquinas gets the credit for this proverb. It will always be attributed to Professor Sullivan in my mind.)

So it is quite normal that the lessons may require repeating and my child's behavior may not please others or me at times. However, my child is still learning, doesn't always do it "right" and must be given Grace Cards. For the behavior that my four-year old is exhibiting will not always be the behavior he exhibits. I have to trust that because he is always learning and I am always teaching, even when I'm just modeling how to handle boredom, frustration and tiredness.

And I need a Grace Card too. Being a teacher is hard and counter-culture.

Staring at the "What If..."

Death. Illness. Loss. Poverty.

All of us are a step away from one of these hard realities of life. Some are fortunate to be several steps away from these realities. All or some can strike any of us at any time.

What if?

I'm standing here, staring at my "what if" and not sure what to do. Look away and focus on the beauty of life with my children? They do not worry about "what if." Try to absorb their simple faith that today is enough and tomorrow will be fine?

I can be swallowed by trying to frantically prepare for the "what if." But I feel helpless as I try to sort out the unknowns. And what if it never arrives? Then I have worried and schemed for nothing. And I missed out of the beauty of simple faith that today is enough and tomorrow will be fine. I've lived enough life to know that good happens, "what if" fades away for a season and quite often I worry for nothing.

And what if it arrives? Then I am not prepared and will have to scurry to figure out what to do. Make the hard decisions. Pray for wisdom. Persevere and wait for it to get easier.

I'm struggling with how to respond when the "what if" looms.

And I struggle with my struggling as I know my issues are small compared to those who are RIGHT NOW struggling with abject poverty, slavery, homelessness, chronic illness, loss and much worse. The "what if" is not looming, it is their reality. I live the life of a queen when compared to their life.

I struggle with the negativity of my "what ifs." There are a lot of messages about how a positive attitude impacts reality. So I feel guilty about not being positive and so focused on the negative "what if" when there are many possibilities for positive "what if" to come true.

I don't have answers and I'm not looking for encouragement. Don't freak out, everything is OK for now. But I wonder, what do you do when the "what if" seems big?

Why is this a question?

Mamasource is a view into the real world for me. Mothers (haven't seen any dads post) ask questions that come up while raising children. Sometimes the questions are horrifying:

My child has [fill-in-the-blank] symptoms. What do I do?

Uh, call your doctor. Most of those who answered your question have NO medical training.

Should I lock my toddler in her room so she won't get into my bed at 3am?

For some reason, this one has come up twice in a week. I want to ask them, "If you were 3 feet tall and had a vivid imagination, would you want to be trapped in a dark room by people who are supposed to be taking care of you?"

I don't know why this is a question.

Updated:

I do know why these are questions. As a commenter said, parents are often isolated and online sources are better than guessing or using outdated info from parents/grandparents.

And the second question -- we crave sleep and lack spousal support at night.

Wordless Wednesday

Finding mama's makeup and doing some experimentation.

It took some work to get the mascara off.