.Waving my White Flag on the Mommy War.

Before becoming a mommy, I dreamed about what it would be like. I envisioned how I would protect my children and their hearts, and I anticipated having to fight for my children at times. But what I didn't anticipate was who it was that I would often fight against.

Other mommies.

 Yup, that's right, I excitedly became a member of the Mommy Club and then soon fell into the Mommy War.

I am ashamed to admit how much I have participated in this. I would love to say that it was naivety in being a new mom that drove me to engage, but truth be told, I just wanted to do this mommy thing right. And when so much is at stake - the very life and development of another human being - we get pretty defensive about what we have decided is right. The defensiveness quickly escalates to criticisms and judgments and then all out war - just to protect that rightness - and to make sure that we feel good about our choices and look good, too. It's a really ugly manifestation of insecurity in our own decisions. I am kind of exhausted of it, though.

Just shy of ten years of being inside this Mommy Club, I have finally come to the place where I understand that what is right for one family, for one child, is not universally right for every family, for every child. It's just not. There's no cookie-cutter method of parenting. 

I am overwhelmed over the lack of grace we women  - mommies - give each other. It's yucky. It's like a grown-up version of junior high, and that gives me the shivers. There is not a topic that is safe, everything is subject to her disapproval.

To breastfeed or bottle feed
To use breast milk or formula
To work or stay home
To eat natural or not
To cloth diaper or disposable diaper
To home school, private school, or public school
To do Santa Claus, Halloween, the Easter bunny or not
To allow screen time or not and how much
To be a helicopter parent or raise free-range children
To spank or not to spank....

The list could go on for days. The battles are endless. The lines are constantly drawn, and engagement in the war is seen everywhere - on TV, on social media, at the park, at church - everywhere - no place is safe.

Why do we feel so entitled to challenge other mommies on the choices her family has made? I dare say that this superiority (for deep down when we look at the ugly underbelly of the war - superiority is at the root - superiority entwined with insecurity) is destroying the beautiful village feel that somewhere inside the heart of all moms, we need and crave. How can we be a village with other women, when we are constantly defending our choices, and in the defending, criticizing hers? To me, having a village of lifetime friendships with other women, regardless of our parenting styles and choices, sounds so much better then feeling right about my choices, and therefore living in isolation, because our parenting choices will never ever perfectly match her parenting choices.

In the past, I have waxed eloquently (errr maybe just waxed) about some of my own decisions in parenting. I specifically remember the topic of home schooling, and how strongly I once felt about that topic. Don't get me wrong, I do love home schooling, and after taking a year off, have once again chosen that as the method of education for my children. But it is not the best choice for every family. It's really, really not. It was not our best choice this past year. So, we didn't do it. We took a much needed break. We chose private school, and we chose it simply because that is where our oldest son had to attend on his student visa, and in an effort to streamline our chaotic life a bit, we sent our oldest daughter to the same private school. But I don't need to defend that choice. It was the best decision for our family for that time. And if public school had been the best decision, we would not have hesitated to choose that. In that moment, of that decision, I found peace, clarity, and grace. I stopped worrying if, because she was still home schooling her children, and I wasn't, she was a better mommy than I was - I stopped wondering if she was enough while I never would be. Because there is really no such thing. None of us are enough, and that's why we need to show our children that Jesus is enough. Honestly, that will probably look quite different for all of us.

So, I am waving my white flag in this Mommy War. Instead of comparing myself to how she mommies, I will, with God's direction, do what is right - right now - for my family. I will choose to stop defending my choices and criticizing hers. The criticism is just insecurity anyway, and my security doesn't need to come from another mom's approval of how I parent. I want to instead be a beautiful member of that Mommy Club, and notice our unique differences, strengths, goals, dreams, passions, etc. I want to take the time to notice the truth that most mommies are doing what is best for their family right now. It's true, all of us moms have short-comings. We will all make mistakes in this journey of parenting, there is no such thing as a perfect mommy, but most likely, we don't need our mistakes pointed out. We will get there and grow in our parenting. And in between all of the gaps and mess-ups, Jesus fills them in, and He can use us to help fill them in, too, when we wave our white flag and offer grace to one another.

I think that we can  really play a part in trying to end these silly Mommy Wars, and link arms and spread grace inside of the Mommy Club. Let's be a different generation. Let's not divide ourselves - the world does a good enough job at that already. Let's be a safe, beautiful place for each of us to be the mommy God created us to be. I don't want to be offended by her, or judge her, or size myself up by her. I just want to be part of a sisterhood that encourages and champions her wherever she is in her journey. We are in this together - we all answer to the same name, Mommy. We are all her.

.Real Babies.

Her name was Beulah Cora. She had chubby cheeks, round, bright eyes, long yellow piggy tails, and adorable dimples. I thought she was beautiful, and I loved her. She was my beloved Cabbage Patch doll. I slept with her, ate with her, and played with her. In the summer I would tag along with my mom to various yard sales, and I would spend my allowance on newborn clothing for her.

There were others, Heather, being one. She was my 1980's Real Baby doll. I saved up my birthday money for her. I still remember the way she smelled, and how she came with a hospital id bracelet. She spent countless hours being pushed in my little plastic buggy, tucked under the cozy dolly quilt a sweet neighbor had made for me. Her plastic cheeks were smothered in kisses, and her little rose bud mouth was often subject to my homemade "baby food" - a mixture of warm water and flour.

Carrie Beth had curly hair - blond - I do not remember where she came from. I do remember dressing her tiny body, whispering love notes into her ear, and tucking her in between my sister and I each night. My last dolly of childhood was unlikely. It was a troll baby, and she smelled like baby powder and wore a shock of bright pink hair. I received this doll on my thirteenth birthday, and I remember, even then, knowing it would be my last ever baby doll. I think the gift was meant to be a part of my miniature troll collection not really a "doll", but I loved her like every other baby doll that had preceded her. She was only loved for a short time, before she retired to a shelf in my room towering over the miniature trolls. I remember feeling sad about that, and once in awhile in my younger teen years taking her off of the shelf and giving her a quick hug, breathing in that baby powder scent, and reluctantly putting her back. I had outgrown her too quickly.

When I was the age that my daughter is now, my greatest desire in all of the world was to be a mommy and to have babies. Not quite knowing how the baby thing all worked, I would lay in bed at night and pray and pray that God would make my baby dolls come alive. Sometimes for extra measure, I would start the night out hiding my baby dolls behind the couch in our living room. I would then run back to my room, squeeze my eyes closed and beg God to make them real. Disappointment choked me every time I ran back to the couch to peek on those dolls. But I always believed that one day, I would run to the couch or wake up and find that my dolls had become real babies.

They never did become real babies, but I never stopped believing that one day I would be a real mommy with real babies of my own. I could not imagine anything better then taking care of and loving my own babies.

It's a silly memory that I have tucked away, but I am realizing that my childhood dream came true. I am a mommy to three beautiful babies. My little six year old self intrinsically knew that she was created to mommy. I wish I could go back and tell her how truly wonderful, amazing, and even better it would be than she had dreamed.



Me with my real babies.

.Because.

They are only little once. The time to make the most of it is now.

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.Three for a Moment.

My dearest firstborn son Scotty,

Here we stand at the crossroads of the end of another year of your life and the beginning of the next. There are moments where I could choose to feel sad watching you grow farther and farther from that beautiful baby that was placed into my arms three years ago, but how can I feel anything but joy when I look at the amazing boy you are becoming? I know that even now God is at work in your life and in your heart.

I believe and pray that you and your brother are going to be the greatest men of God in your generation. Daddy and I are not simply raising a good boy, we are raising a great man who is going to do unbelievable things for the kingdom and for the glory of God. And that excites me. We have completely surrendered your life to God, and we pray that God takes you to the ends of the earth for His sake. We are not raising you to survive this world, we are raising you to change it - for the glory of God.

This has been such a big year for you, Scotty. You barely resemble the two year old that stood before me last year. The traces of baby have all but been erased, and in their place stands a boy. I am cherishing what is left of your babyhood - your sweet thumb sucking and snuggling, but I am not clinging to them. I am embracing each new stage with you as you grow.

Bringing your little brother home seemed to grow you over night. You immediately stepped into your big brother role with grace and joy, and you amazed Daddy and I. You have become a protector and defender, although perhaps God had been designing that in you all along. Even in the nursery, you were always the child who had to make sure every other child had a toy before you would settle down to play yourself.

When God gave me you, He gave me a gift. You are a precious gift. It is my privilege to be your mommy, and to do life with you. Your smile and bright eyes are the light of our home. Your laughter bounces off of our walls and embraces us. Your are tenderness and toughness, kindness and justice, charming and mischievous. You are three for a moment. A moment that I am tucking into my heart and cherishing all of the days of my life.

(Photo captured by the very talented Joanna.)

I love you, Prescott. Today we pause to celebrate your life, and the God who so intricately knitted it together. God knew we needed you.

All my heart, Mommy


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He was one for a moment.

He was two for a moment.

.No Matter How You Cut It.

He's still cute.

He's still Scotty.

At least that is what I keep telling myself.

I think it is time to say goodbye to Scotty's faux hawk. I say that, but then I scroll back up to my header and get a little pang of sadness.

Silly, I know.

But I think his faux hawk has started to define him.

People know him by his hawk.

They remark about it.

Every time he goes out in public he gets oohed and aaahed over because of his hair.

Scotty has become insistent and a bit obsessed about having his hair hawked, and I am just beginning to wonder if it is a good thing.

There is so much more to this boy than his faux hawk. {grin} I don't want people to miss out on him. So I have left it off most of this week. (Except Monday night when we took him out in public {blush}. I was still working through all of this.)

Yesterday, he was so hot with his heavy hair, that I banded up the front to keep his wet sticky hair from slicking itself to his forehead.



Daddy was not a fan of this, and the hair band was promptly removed upon him coming home last night!

I am debating what to do with his hair.

I know, it's just hair.

But I will not buzz it. I don't think his hair would take on a Caesar cut either. It is stick straight and heavy (But still fine and slick, as it is still baby-like hair) for such a little boy - not an ounce of body or wave.

For some reason it matters to me that my boy has a style, not just a nilly, willy cut. Shallow? Probably. {sigh}

He loves hats, but we cannot hide his hair under them all of the time!



I am seriously leaning towards a classic English Paige Boy cut like this, but probably a smidge shorter. I think Jim is finally on board with this as well.


(Please excuse the quality I took a picture of a picture in a catalog that came today!)

So I will trim his sides around his ears and his bangs to allow it all to grow to one length, and we shall see.

I guess no matter how you cut it....



he is still the sweetest, most darling boy I have ever had the privilege of knowing.

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.Momentous Monday.

If this is your first time joining Momentous Monday, please click here to learn what it's all about!

She looked up at him her eyes round and bright and her jaw went slack. He had just earned his "Daddy of the Year" award with his mere words.

Cadi, he said as he pointed up and down the aisle.

You can pick any cereal box that you want, and that is what we will eat for dinner.

Sugared cereal rarely makes its way into our house, and if it does it is pretty benign like Honey Nut Cheerios.

She was ecstatic.



And let's be honest. So was mommy.

I didn't have to cook.

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.Keeping the Little in Little Girl.

There is a rising epidemic in our culture.

Have you noticed it?

The length of childhood, for little girls especially, is rapidly decreasing. It is a sad phenomenon. When I was a child, I can remember playing with my dolls until I was 14 or 15 years old. There was no shame in it, no push for me to grow up. Sadly, this does not seem to be the case today. Everywhere I look I see little girls dressing older, talking older, and acting older.

I'm writing about this over at Raising Homemakers today! Please come join me! I'd love to hear what you think.

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.Momentous Monday.

I'm not that kind of Mommy.

You know the one.

Fun.

Easy going.

Care-free.

Go-with-the-flow.

Spontaneous.

Crazy.

Goofy.

At least when left to my own natural tendencies I am none of the above.

But in an effort to make memorable moments for my children and their childhood, I stretch myself to be some of the above.

So on Wednesday when it started down pouring, I sent my children outside. In the rain. Barefoot.

I let them run and play and splash. And get {really} dirty. And make a mud hole in our yard.







And we loved every single minute.

(If you are new to Momentous Monday please go here.)
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.Caught in the Act.

This morning before breakfast, while Jim and I were busy Scotty did this.

He got into the pantry, took out the crackers, carried them over to the stairs, unscrewed the lid (!!) and helped himself.

And when I caught him, he gave me that mischievous look!


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.Preserving their Innocence.

I have been thinking a lot lately about preserving my children's innocence. Now I do not want to get into a deep theological debate here, so let me be clear with that statement. Yes, I believe that my children were born into this world with a sin nature. No, I am not claiming that they are innocent in that sense. I am referring more to innocence in the way of "unknowing".

I talked a little bit about media here. I didn't delve into specifics too much, though. So today I am going to. Because I don't know about you, but as a mommy to two children, I am fed up with it.

I have to be honest with you first. In the post mentioned above, I said that we were cancelling our cable. That is where we were getting the funds to sponsor Gerlie - our child through Compassion International. Well, to make a very long story short - we didn't cancel. Our phone and internet are included in our cable package. We found out that if we canceled cable, we would have actually been paying more - ridiculous. We are sponsoring Gerlie. This was our second month supporting her. We have had no trouble accruing the funds to send to her - praise God! Cadi thinks that we do not have cable. We have not told her otherwise. So the children never watch it. I never turn it on during the day, and I seldom ever have. I would prefer to spend any down time another way. Anyway, I just wanted to get that out in the open.

Back to media.

Back to preserving my children's innocence - keeping them pure.

I am just struggling with knowing how to raise these two precious children in such a media driven, perverse world. Have you seen the immodest clothing that is already being pushed on our little girls? My husband is very sensitive about what our daughter wears, and I am so thankful for his wisdom and discernment in this area. I wasn't always so thankful. I didn't understand what we were up against at first. I remember when Cadi was a baby thinking that the itty bitty baby bikinis were so adorable, but Jim would not allow that on his daughter. I thought it was harmless and cute. However when I stopped to really think about it, I knew he was right. A bikini has been a sex symbol for years. We would not allow our teenage daughter to dress in a bikini, so why would we let our infant daughter, or toddler, or preschooler? And if you do allow your little girl to wear a bikini, I am not judging you, this is what we do in our family to preserve innocence.

It goes beyond clothing even. It seems as if the world/media is pushing our daughters to grow up faster and faster. Have you noticed? Have you seen the movies, the TV shows, the music pushed on our little girls? What is the harm? What gets sacrificed? Our children's childhood!! That is huge. I want to preserve my daughter's (and my son's) childhood for as long as I can. They only get it once. Why not make it long and sunny? (I have a whole post on this drafted up for Raising Homemakers. I will let you know when it publishes.)

I want to preserve Scotty's innocence by keeping him away from the images of scantily clad women that our culture is saturated in. So at 20 months he doesn't watch cable. But what do I do in "the real world"? I saw on The Duggar's show one time where they had a code word for the boys/men when out in public. If the women/girls saw another female dressed immodestly they would say this word, immediately the males would look at their feet and keep walking until they were told all is clear. Sounds a little extreme. Or does it? I am still mulling this over. I have a friend that does this with her son and husband.

What bothers me the most is the way we, as Christians, have been brain washed into thinking this loss of innocence is just normal and going to happen. That immodest clothing for little girls is cute, that inappropriate movies are funny, that sex education needs to be taught far too early, because we want them to hear it from us first etc. I have fallen prey to it before myself. But I am choosing to be more aware, to put my guard up, and to protect these children in my care. I am not going to concede to our society. I am not.

I believe that I have a God-given role in the life of my children to preserve their innocence. I am still working out exactly how. I do not want my children to be defenseless in our culture, but the Bible also tells me to dwell on what is pure, true, lovely.

Philippians4:8 And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.


I think my children's childhood should mirror this. The gift of innocence is a beautiful thing I can give to my children.



I do not want to stir up controversy, but I would love some discussion.
What do you do to preserve innocence in your children?
Have you thought about it before?




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