Month: May 2014 (Page 3 of 5)

What I learned from saying it out loud

Post. Edit. Revert to draft. Post. Edit. Climb out of bed at 4am and pull it down. Read the Facebook comments. Repost. Wince. Get a text. Sigh in relief. Get a message. Wince.

This was the 12 hours after posting my thoughts on Mother’s Day. I’m still not completely convinced that what was written was either beautiful or useful (my new qualifiers for what I keep in the public sphere. I need to put the rest of it in a diary where it belongs). However, the comments prompted me to put it back up.

Other conversations happened, too. Thoughts that while they agreed, also challenged. (I love these, by the way. They’re my favorite. That’s why I love all you people.) So, in no particular order, here are my lessons learned from the day.

1. It’s okay to want a day off. Like, really off. I heard, mostly on the side, how much gals simply just wanted to be abdicated from all the responsibility. Lots of moms were posting pictures of the day spent with kids and family, and these whispers came that “I feel so guilty that I just want time alone.” Guess what, friends. It’s okay. Especially you mamas who spend the primary part of your days with the little ones. You don’t have to want to spend every moment of every hour, every day for all of the days, forever and ever, amen, with your children. Or even your family.

It’s okay to be a person who loves to read in the quiet or run in the sunshine. It’s okay to seek friendships with the girls and see a movie and have a glass of wine. I know we’re told this, but often it still heaps on some mom guilt. So I can’t reiterate enough that seeking fellowship (<- hate that word) outside your kinfolk is absolutely reasonable. In fact, it makes you a better mother.

2. Holidays, inclusive of Mother’s Day, require us mamas to dig deep into what is at the heart of mothering – giving more and taking less. We do it because we love our families, we do it because we’re raising our children to be considerate and thoughtful little beings. So while many of us feel very pity-partyish at the end of the second Sunday in May (and that’s a bit okay), it’s also very much okay to continue to spend the holiday with our matriarchs and extended fam, even when that means a hot dog at the cookout (right, B?).

By and large, no one who read and commented felt as if we need to revolutionize Mother’s Day. They simply want to feel validated. Heard. Not alone. So all we did was bring out into the open what everyone was feeling – this isn’t about me, even though the title of the day says it is. Now that we realize it, we can be about the business of honoring those who have done such an outstanding job of raising us into thoughtful and considerate humans. Because – and this is important here – they might not need the nap as much as they need the connection with family. What speaks to their heart at this point might be different than what little ol’ me yearns for and that is okay, too.

3. I think this M2 day can really catch on. Not necessarily just the week after Mothers’s day, but a special day your family decides will work. Get your spouse on your side. Have that long, hard conversation about how you feel (NOT when you’re angry) and ask for a day. Find out GLENNON’S schedule and book a ticket. Or find a movie, a concert, a play, or a museum and buy the ticket.

My husband, who typically wins prizes for Best Husband Award, barely bats an eye at these types of requests. Many of them don’t. The problem is that we don’t declare ask for it to happen. We wait to be told, and my friends, that’s the problem. Look back at the roots of Mother’s Day and find that a) it actually had very little to do with honoring motherhood and b) it was a bunch of strong women taking a stand on what is important in the world. If refreshment is what will bring your world a bit of light, then please, order those tickets. Book that date. IN PEN. Do me a favor and think more of your husband. He loves you and wants this for you. He’s simply clueless.

Now excuse me, my A+ of a husband suggested I get in a run this evening and now I need to shower. How did I ever find such a guy to make time on my behalf? #winning

What I want my daughters to know (and my sons, too) about Relationships

Another post from the archives, and another favorite. I still believe this. I want all my children to hear me say these things at least a hundred times. 

The right guy at the wrong time is still the wrong guy.
You need to be “me” before you can be “we”.
You become like the people you are around the most; ask, “do I want to become more like him?”
If he loves you, he’ll never say “If you love me…”
People can change. Not all of them do.
Never use sex as a weapon or a tool.
It’s better to be alone and content than with someone and miserable.
If you have to lie to your family and friends about him, he’s probably not a great catch.
It’s never okay to hit.
There’s NOTHING wrong with you.
Sometimes, “like the other girls” shouldn’t be the goal.
Don’t look at his resume, look at his heart. Just because he meets “minimum qualifications” or “seems perfect for you” doesn’t mean you have to date him.
Yes, sometimes “good guys” are boring. And keeping up with a rebel can be exhausting.
Most divorces result from arguments about money and sex. Watch carefully how he talks about, uses or values these things.
There’s a difference between “perfect” and “healthy”.
Learn how to fight fair.
Stand up for yourself. And learn to say “I’m sorry.”
If he doesn’t encourage (which can include challenging) your faith, you’ll probably end up bored or frustrated.

 

Mother’s Day, I’m Over You

*Warning: You might want to adjust your computer to read this in your best bratty font. That seems to be my tone d’jour. Sorry. Sort of. I’m shooting for honesty. I’m hopeful that honesty isn’t hurtful. But I’ll fully acknowledge that I sound like a bit of a brat here and am probably acting like one, too. So, go ahead. Take away my Mother’s Day. 

My first May as a mama was fantastic. My 6-month-old bought me a present I’d been wanting, we had a delicious lunch with our moms and probably squeezed in a nap and some pizza. After that, it all went downhill. This year, I officially gave up on Mother’s Day until 2034, in which I hope to reap benefits twenty-fold.

When my toddler decided to give the gift she made in preschool to her dad instead of me (as he is the preferred parental unit these days), I dismissed it as unknowing childishness. When my Mother’s Day gift was half a size too big, I chalked it up to “exchangeable” (thanks, Amazon!). Then the toddler climbed into bed at 6:45 after the infant was awake for most of the 4:00am hour, and I was over the thought that I actually get a day off. Which makes it much easier to load the kids into a car for a few hours and ask them to sit still, quietly, through a meal at a restaurant.

I told my friend this morning at church that had pretty much given up on Mother’s Day as a day for me and she agreed. She had been up at 5:15 making her contribution for the family potluck while everyone else slept until 7:15. Another friend hosted an extended family gathering, only days after having a major surgery.

I returned home from church, fake flowers from the nursery class in hand, with a child who refused to eat lunch and carnage from leaving breakfast and lunch to daddy.

I don't want my lunch.

meals

Note: he is a superhusband. He did the dishes.

Why has this day become so difficult? Why can’t a simple thing like celebrating motherhood just happen without bells and whistles? We’ve even added other complications, the way we feel all the feels around the big M Day. Those who have lost mothers. Those who want desperately to join this seemingly elite club. Those who went through the pain of loss before taking the baby home. Adoptive mamas, birth moms, women opted for abortion and now live with regrets and questions.

My neighbor had one child, a son. He died at 19 years old. I have to wonder how she struggles on a day like this, if she asks if she’s “still a mother”? Undoubtedly, she is, as she’s endured the years of motherhood. But who is bringing her a hanging basket of petunias?

It began as a nice gesture. Let’s take a day and make mom feel loved. But somehow it evolved into a national holiday with requirements and pre-requisites. Qualifiers and boundary markers. Long, long lines at Red Lobster. Flowers and cards and sermons. And all any mom really wants is a nap, a peaceful bathroom and a meal we neither cooked nor cleaned up.

In the gift of creating a day to honor and show appreciation for mothers, we heap more Mom Guilt on their shoulders. We either opt out of enjoying a good book  to do up the day spectacularly for our own families with all kinds of festivities or mourn the loss of opportunity to do so.  Neither of those options include a nap. And everyone feels bad. My mother-in-law is reading this thinking, “we shouldn’t have went out to dinner.” That’s in fact not my point. Her guilty feeling is my point. I love celebrating my MIL. (She’s the best. She did such a good job raising kids, I decided to marry one of them.)  I’d kinda feel left out if JJ said, “why don’t you just stay home?”. Actually, I’d be a bit huffy. But the fact that we’re both trying to do something to celebrate the other, exemplifies my point exactly.

The problem, it seems, is that we can’t pack all this mom-honoring into a singular day.

So I came up with my own solution: my own Mother’s day, M2 Day. Next week. (This, coming from a girl who celebrates a birthday week).

Screen shot 2014-05-11 at 9.50.06 PM A friend and I are making the trek and enjoying a guilt-free afternoon, road-tripping with something other than the Frozen soundtrack. We enjoyed our families today – our extended families and the sweet sentiments of our children’s best attempts to show us their love. (Excluding bedtime. Really, if they loved me, they’d just go. to. bed.)

And next week, we’ll have our own little M2 day. To me, it’s having our cake (with our mothers-in-law) and eating it, too (in the quiet).

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