"My, your hands are full."
First I would like to thank all those who responded to my question. I was afraid that even the question would be offensive, but I was also very curious. I found your response very helpful. They have made me consider my attitude toward parenting as well as toward people responding to my parenting. This has led me to think a lot about grace. And although, I haven't had to deal with that comment specifically, I have had to deal with criticism and patronization.
Because it is not so much the words, but the sentiment behind the words that cause offense, I can completely relate to the experience. No one likes to have their choices or children or parenting criticized, especially by complete strangers who don't know or understand your full story. Criticism, sometimes masked by glib statements and unmasked by appalled glances/stares, is uncharitable. It is easy to be critical or cynical right back at them, but that response is equally uncharitable.
I also think it is interesting that although criticism is obviously hard to take, patronization is equally offensive. Patronization isn't quite the same as criticism; it often takes the form of sympathy, but where the listener is left feeling like the scum of the earth. It takes a lot of wisdom and grace to not respond in kind or to be offended, but rather live freely and confidently and charitably. It is much easier to tell them how it really is and they ought to be ashamed of thinking in any other way (which is patronizing them right back).
I wonder if we viewed people critical of our choices, whether they are our procreation choices or our lifestyle choices or parenting, with the same grace we wish to encounter, would that change what we get offended by? And would it change our response? If I see everyone as having their hands full (because of choices they have made and situations they have encountered), then can comments about my life can be a way of expressing grace to them? I don't have to correct them or be condemned by them, but can be as self-sacrificing to them as I am to my children.
I also wonder if rather than criticism of children, some of the negative comments about children and teenagers are more a reaction to carrying the joy of the Lord with us. Because we are content with our situations, people feel the need to "balance us out with a dose of reality." This often will feel like criticism or negative statements, but could just be not knowing how to deal with a content person.
I don't know; these are just wonderings and musings. But because of these wonderings, I think I will begin to pray that God will give me grace, wisdom, charity, and a sense of humor every time I enter a public place.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
Question to Mothers with Large Families
"My, you have you hands full."
I have enough friends with large families, and read enough blogs to know that this is not what you ought to say to a mother with many children. However, I have often wondered why it is so offensive. So like a good blogger, I am asking via my blog, why?
Is this offensive because it is often said with a condemning tone of voice? Is it because it kills conversation and there are not very many good responses? Is it because of the implication that you do things differently and have different priorities? Perhaps the implication that you don't know about birt control or not understanding the desire for lots of kids?
Could someone explain this to me? If your explanation is too long for a comment, could you blog about it and post the link in the comments?
I really am wondering, but if it is one of those things where you just have to experience it to understand, I will try to accept that answer too.
I have enough friends with large families, and read enough blogs to know that this is not what you ought to say to a mother with many children. However, I have often wondered why it is so offensive. So like a good blogger, I am asking via my blog, why?
Is this offensive because it is often said with a condemning tone of voice? Is it because it kills conversation and there are not very many good responses? Is it because of the implication that you do things differently and have different priorities? Perhaps the implication that you don't know about birt control or not understanding the desire for lots of kids?
Could someone explain this to me? If your explanation is too long for a comment, could you blog about it and post the link in the comments?
I really am wondering, but if it is one of those things where you just have to experience it to understand, I will try to accept that answer too.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Whirlwind
What a whirlwind the past month has been, but especially the last week and a half. We visited Kate in NYC then Thomas' family in GA. Eamon saw lots of animals, lots of loving relations, and didn't sleep nearly enough. I am getting larger and larger as the baby inside grows, getting more scatterbrained, and have recently discovered that sitting on the floor and crawling around with Eamon takes much more energy than it did. Thomas is holding everything together with his quiet, loving way.
I will do more specific posts as I get pictures uploaded. And maybe a post on things I have been thinking about. However, right now, I want to get in a quick nap before Eamon wakes up, and if I have time, make a shopping list.
I will do more specific posts as I get pictures uploaded. And maybe a post on things I have been thinking about. However, right now, I want to get in a quick nap before Eamon wakes up, and if I have time, make a shopping list.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mothers' Day
My Mothers' Day began at 2:15 with one baby having a croupy cough and the other sitting on my bladder. On waking up, one of my first rational thoughts was, "Happy Mothers' Day to me." The day continued in this vein, and though I would rather have had a little more sleep and a little less crying (from the boy, not me) it wasn't a bad day.
Thomas took the boy down to the freezer to breathe cool moist air. Then I took him to the couch. We cuddled and wiggled and realized that there was no position that both of us were comfortable. I can't lay on my back because my hips get so sore or he sits on top of his brother. And he can't get comfortable when I am laying on my side - he is either falling off the couch (due to my belly) or falling behind the cushion. Finally I propped him up at one end of the couch, so he could breathe and be upright, and I curled up at the other end, with one leg making sure he wouldn't fall of the edge. It almost worked until a coughing fit woke him and he wanted more cuddles.
He seemed to be breathing better so I took him back to bed to see if laying down with us would work. It didn't. After about half and hour, he began to fight sleep and us, so we reassured him we loved him and tossed him into his bed - ok, gently placed him, but he acted as if we had tossed him in - for about 15 seconds. Then he calmed down and was asleep in 10 minutes. We felt a little silly for trying to coax and rock him to sleep. I checked the clock when he got quiet. It was quarter to 4.
The alarm went off at 7:30. We didn't get up. We assumed that he would wake up within the half hour, as he usually does, but and hour and a half later we became fully conscious and realized we had an hour to get out the door. We managed to do it in an hour and 10 minutes, so we were late for church and missed singing "And Can It Be." Eamon was no longer croupy, but had a very runny nose. We left quickly and Thomas took me out for lunch.
Of course there was a long wait to be seated, and a longer wait for food. Eamon got increasingly grumpy during the wait. By the time food got to us, Eamon had had it. He ate three grapes a bit of toast and drank some juice. Then he fell asleep on my lap. He slept through the ride home, and instead of trying to get him to his crib without him waking up (which rarely works) I stayed in the car with him and took a nap. After sleeping for a little while, I was able to sit and watch the clouds and listen to the wind and feel the weight of my pencil in my hand, though I didn't write anything. I thought that I am not very creative right now - as far as stories and poems are concerned - because those things require sitting still and letting my mind and soul be still too, and I rarely have time to do that. It was very refreshing.
However, after about an 1.5 hour nap, Eamon woke up grumpy. He wanted to play in the car. He wanted to stay out side. He wanted his daddy. He didn't want his diaper changed. He didn't want to eat Cheerios. He wanted to watch videos of music and lions. Finally I thought to ask him if he wanted a sandwich. That was what he really wanted. After that he became much happier and played and looked at books with his daddy and I washed the dishes.
Unfortunately as the sun began to set, he began to breathe heavier again. He didn't want to eat his supper, but he couldn't really rest without coughing. He was so sleepy by this time that he kept cuddling into Thomas and I, but he was so miserable he would wake himself up. We tried a steamy room and a bath and got him ready for bed. By this time, we were beginning to get worried about how hard he was working to breathe. But as he relaxed while we read the Bible, I thought he began to breathe a little easier. We watched Star Wars: A New Hope with him falling asleep in the middle of it, waking up occasionally with terrible coughing fits. He has now been laying in his bed for about half an hour without a coughing fit and without waking up. He is still breathing faster than usual and there is a rattle in his throat, but I think he sounds better, though, I am not sure.
So Happy Mothers' Day to me. There is still and hour and a half before it is over, and I hope to be sleeping soon. I was thinking that although it wasn't a day where I got a break of any sort, where I called my mom about Eamon and forgot to wish her a happy Mothers' Day, and where we forgot to call Thomas's mom at all, I was reminded how much I am needed as a mother. My babies need me, and love me because I am there for them when the need me. I trust that that love will grow and develop as they grow and develop, not so that I get a break, but so that they understand that my love is just a little picture of how much God loves them. He is there when we need him; he holds us when we cannot sleep; he whispers his love in our ears when we are crying; he provides our little (and big) needs. And he always will.
And a big thank you to our mom's who have pictured God's unfailing love for us. Happy Mothers' Day. We love you!
Thomas took the boy down to the freezer to breathe cool moist air. Then I took him to the couch. We cuddled and wiggled and realized that there was no position that both of us were comfortable. I can't lay on my back because my hips get so sore or he sits on top of his brother. And he can't get comfortable when I am laying on my side - he is either falling off the couch (due to my belly) or falling behind the cushion. Finally I propped him up at one end of the couch, so he could breathe and be upright, and I curled up at the other end, with one leg making sure he wouldn't fall of the edge. It almost worked until a coughing fit woke him and he wanted more cuddles.
He seemed to be breathing better so I took him back to bed to see if laying down with us would work. It didn't. After about half and hour, he began to fight sleep and us, so we reassured him we loved him and tossed him into his bed - ok, gently placed him, but he acted as if we had tossed him in - for about 15 seconds. Then he calmed down and was asleep in 10 minutes. We felt a little silly for trying to coax and rock him to sleep. I checked the clock when he got quiet. It was quarter to 4.
The alarm went off at 7:30. We didn't get up. We assumed that he would wake up within the half hour, as he usually does, but and hour and a half later we became fully conscious and realized we had an hour to get out the door. We managed to do it in an hour and 10 minutes, so we were late for church and missed singing "And Can It Be." Eamon was no longer croupy, but had a very runny nose. We left quickly and Thomas took me out for lunch.
Of course there was a long wait to be seated, and a longer wait for food. Eamon got increasingly grumpy during the wait. By the time food got to us, Eamon had had it. He ate three grapes a bit of toast and drank some juice. Then he fell asleep on my lap. He slept through the ride home, and instead of trying to get him to his crib without him waking up (which rarely works) I stayed in the car with him and took a nap. After sleeping for a little while, I was able to sit and watch the clouds and listen to the wind and feel the weight of my pencil in my hand, though I didn't write anything. I thought that I am not very creative right now - as far as stories and poems are concerned - because those things require sitting still and letting my mind and soul be still too, and I rarely have time to do that. It was very refreshing.
However, after about an 1.5 hour nap, Eamon woke up grumpy. He wanted to play in the car. He wanted to stay out side. He wanted his daddy. He didn't want his diaper changed. He didn't want to eat Cheerios. He wanted to watch videos of music and lions. Finally I thought to ask him if he wanted a sandwich. That was what he really wanted. After that he became much happier and played and looked at books with his daddy and I washed the dishes.
Unfortunately as the sun began to set, he began to breathe heavier again. He didn't want to eat his supper, but he couldn't really rest without coughing. He was so sleepy by this time that he kept cuddling into Thomas and I, but he was so miserable he would wake himself up. We tried a steamy room and a bath and got him ready for bed. By this time, we were beginning to get worried about how hard he was working to breathe. But as he relaxed while we read the Bible, I thought he began to breathe a little easier. We watched Star Wars: A New Hope with him falling asleep in the middle of it, waking up occasionally with terrible coughing fits. He has now been laying in his bed for about half an hour without a coughing fit and without waking up. He is still breathing faster than usual and there is a rattle in his throat, but I think he sounds better, though, I am not sure.
So Happy Mothers' Day to me. There is still and hour and a half before it is over, and I hope to be sleeping soon. I was thinking that although it wasn't a day where I got a break of any sort, where I called my mom about Eamon and forgot to wish her a happy Mothers' Day, and where we forgot to call Thomas's mom at all, I was reminded how much I am needed as a mother. My babies need me, and love me because I am there for them when the need me. I trust that that love will grow and develop as they grow and develop, not so that I get a break, but so that they understand that my love is just a little picture of how much God loves them. He is there when we need him; he holds us when we cannot sleep; he whispers his love in our ears when we are crying; he provides our little (and big) needs. And he always will.
And a big thank you to our mom's who have pictured God's unfailing love for us. Happy Mothers' Day. We love you!
Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Baby Eamon and the Sad
Lady Mommy is great with child. This often destroys her coping mechanisms, especially when faced by a Baby Eamon who refuses to sleep for longer than a half hour.
Once upon a time, after wrestling a non-sleeping, but very sleepy, Baby Eamon for a hour, Lady Mommy was unable to face life any longer. She began to cry. She called Sir Daddy and cried to him, but he was in a distant land and unable to offer more than comforting words. When she stopped talking to him, she found a place to sit, and she wept and wept.
Baby Eamon, saw her distress and was himself distressed by this expression of sadness. He made all kinds of pitiful faces and sounds and went to Lady Mommy for comfort. He gave her lots of cuddles and pats on the back, and when she wiped her eyes with a tissue, he wanted his eyes and nose (which were dry) wiped too. Then he gave her more cuddles and hugs and back pats until she started to smile again.
When she seemed that she was no longer sad, Baby Eamon crawled off Lady Mommy's lap, and began playing by her feet. He did not beg to be picked up, but he stayed at her feet all afternoon until he finally fell asleep right before supper time.
Baby Eamon defeated the Sad, and they all lived happily ever after, until next time.
The End
Once upon a time, after wrestling a non-sleeping, but very sleepy, Baby Eamon for a hour, Lady Mommy was unable to face life any longer. She began to cry. She called Sir Daddy and cried to him, but he was in a distant land and unable to offer more than comforting words. When she stopped talking to him, she found a place to sit, and she wept and wept.
Baby Eamon, saw her distress and was himself distressed by this expression of sadness. He made all kinds of pitiful faces and sounds and went to Lady Mommy for comfort. He gave her lots of cuddles and pats on the back, and when she wiped her eyes with a tissue, he wanted his eyes and nose (which were dry) wiped too. Then he gave her more cuddles and hugs and back pats until she started to smile again.
When she seemed that she was no longer sad, Baby Eamon crawled off Lady Mommy's lap, and began playing by her feet. He did not beg to be picked up, but he stayed at her feet all afternoon until he finally fell asleep right before supper time.
Baby Eamon defeated the Sad, and they all lived happily ever after, until next time.
The End
Friday, May 03, 2013
Adventures - some past and some to come
Thomas has pointed out that when things don't go as planned, I call it an adventure, rather than an inconvenience or a problem. So the past three weeks have been full of adventures.
Eamon had an ear infection from a cold. I got that cold too. Then Thomas got a cold, which we thought was the same one with different manifestations. But when Eamon and I got that one too, we realized it was a different cold, much nastier and long-lived. So Eamon got another ear-infection, and we spread the nastiness to some friends.
Of course, Eamon's fever didn't spike until Friday night so we either had to wait until Monday or go to urgent care. We chose the latter. He cried the entire time - about a 1.5 to 2 hour wait time, was diagnosed with a double ear infection, and fell asleep (finally) on the way home. Because of he previous ear infection, they couldn't give him the same antibiotic, so they gave him a different one. Unfortunately, it didn't work. After three days (one dose a day) and his fever still around 102, we went to the doctor. She gave him an antibiotic shot because there wasn't another antibiotic they could. His fever came down that night and was gone in the morning.
However, all during our colds, because of the drainage and cough, Eamon and I had been sleeping propped up on the couch. It has taken about a week after the symptoms have stopped for him not to want to be held for every time he sleeps. If I laid him down, he would wake up within 15-30 minutes and not go back to sleep. Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, came the three days of double naps (1.5 hours each). Now (at least for the last few "at home" days) he is back to one nap ranging between 2-3 hours. Mornings are still difficult. If he wakes up after 4am, he won't fall back to sleep unless he is horizontal on me or in our bed. However, as someone reminded me recently, "They do learn to sleep eventually."
Baby 2 is growing nicely. I am getting larger and keep forgetting that I can't squeeze through places as well. Eamon is beginning to notice that there isn't as much room on Mommy's lap, and I am fairly certain that while we were sleeping on the couch, the boys were having kicking matches. Baby would kick Eamon and Eamon would kick me. I don't know how much Eamon felt, but I felt both very well. Baby's kicks have gone from the flutters to the lumping about to the scraping the inside of my belly and underside of my ribs with his toes. He is also getting rather good at pushing on points of pressure, like my pant's "waist-band" or Eamon when he is sitting on my lap. I have begun to wonder what this child will be like. Will he be as ornery as he makes me feel? Will he sleep? Will he be active and wiggly or more calm and laid back?
We are praying that he will wait until full term or almost that before he comes. But since Eamon was early, we are planning for that possibility too. Right now, that is just mental preparedness, but in the next few weeks/months, it might mean some major adjustments to our housing situation. So I feel as though I am planning for many contingencies. On top of that, my midwife moved, so I am wondering if I should follow her to another hospital (without a NICU) or if I should start visiting a different midwife at the hospital I have been going to, or get to know the other doctors at the hospital (since whoever is on duty will deliver the baby). It is an odd decision because last time nothing went as planned, but it ended up being really good experience. It didn't matter to me that I didn't know any of the doctors or nurses who were there. I had Thomas and my mom there and they were both so helpful and supportive.
But so many people talk about how important and meaningful it is to know the doctor who delivers the baby. Is it odd that I don't really care as long as the baby is delivered safe and sound? I trust the practice/hospital that I am going to and have received really good care there from almost everyone that I have seen. In the few exceptions, I learned how to deal with those people, I don't expect similar results if I need to seem them again. I feel very inexperienced at this whole giving birth/finding a doctor/using a midwife thing. At the same time, I don't want to be a diva mom, who has to have everything just perfect to feel like I have had a successful birth. (I am not saying that mothers with birth plans are diva mothers; I am speaking in extremes.)
I want my baby to be safe, healthy, and born. I want a supportive system that listens to my wants and desires and will not pressure me into making decisions contrary to what I am comfortable with. I want my baby to be able to stay in the room with me and only receive supplemental formula if absolutely necessary (as it was for Eamon). I want Thomas to be with me and Eamon to be able to visit me and the baby when he is born. If mom can be there too, that would be lovely, but if she can't, considering her crazy summer, I will not be crushed. Other than those things, I can't think of anything that is terribly important to me. Perhaps after a bad experience, I would have more qualifications, but like I said, I trust the practice/hospital that I am going to. And I trust God to take care of the details.
If things don't got as planned, it will just be another adventure. Right?
Eamon had an ear infection from a cold. I got that cold too. Then Thomas got a cold, which we thought was the same one with different manifestations. But when Eamon and I got that one too, we realized it was a different cold, much nastier and long-lived. So Eamon got another ear-infection, and we spread the nastiness to some friends.
Of course, Eamon's fever didn't spike until Friday night so we either had to wait until Monday or go to urgent care. We chose the latter. He cried the entire time - about a 1.5 to 2 hour wait time, was diagnosed with a double ear infection, and fell asleep (finally) on the way home. Because of he previous ear infection, they couldn't give him the same antibiotic, so they gave him a different one. Unfortunately, it didn't work. After three days (one dose a day) and his fever still around 102, we went to the doctor. She gave him an antibiotic shot because there wasn't another antibiotic they could. His fever came down that night and was gone in the morning.
However, all during our colds, because of the drainage and cough, Eamon and I had been sleeping propped up on the couch. It has taken about a week after the symptoms have stopped for him not to want to be held for every time he sleeps. If I laid him down, he would wake up within 15-30 minutes and not go back to sleep. Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, came the three days of double naps (1.5 hours each). Now (at least for the last few "at home" days) he is back to one nap ranging between 2-3 hours. Mornings are still difficult. If he wakes up after 4am, he won't fall back to sleep unless he is horizontal on me or in our bed. However, as someone reminded me recently, "They do learn to sleep eventually."
Baby 2 is growing nicely. I am getting larger and keep forgetting that I can't squeeze through places as well. Eamon is beginning to notice that there isn't as much room on Mommy's lap, and I am fairly certain that while we were sleeping on the couch, the boys were having kicking matches. Baby would kick Eamon and Eamon would kick me. I don't know how much Eamon felt, but I felt both very well. Baby's kicks have gone from the flutters to the lumping about to the scraping the inside of my belly and underside of my ribs with his toes. He is also getting rather good at pushing on points of pressure, like my pant's "waist-band" or Eamon when he is sitting on my lap. I have begun to wonder what this child will be like. Will he be as ornery as he makes me feel? Will he sleep? Will he be active and wiggly or more calm and laid back?
We are praying that he will wait until full term or almost that before he comes. But since Eamon was early, we are planning for that possibility too. Right now, that is just mental preparedness, but in the next few weeks/months, it might mean some major adjustments to our housing situation. So I feel as though I am planning for many contingencies. On top of that, my midwife moved, so I am wondering if I should follow her to another hospital (without a NICU) or if I should start visiting a different midwife at the hospital I have been going to, or get to know the other doctors at the hospital (since whoever is on duty will deliver the baby). It is an odd decision because last time nothing went as planned, but it ended up being really good experience. It didn't matter to me that I didn't know any of the doctors or nurses who were there. I had Thomas and my mom there and they were both so helpful and supportive.
But so many people talk about how important and meaningful it is to know the doctor who delivers the baby. Is it odd that I don't really care as long as the baby is delivered safe and sound? I trust the practice/hospital that I am going to and have received really good care there from almost everyone that I have seen. In the few exceptions, I learned how to deal with those people, I don't expect similar results if I need to seem them again. I feel very inexperienced at this whole giving birth/finding a doctor/using a midwife thing. At the same time, I don't want to be a diva mom, who has to have everything just perfect to feel like I have had a successful birth. (I am not saying that mothers with birth plans are diva mothers; I am speaking in extremes.)
I want my baby to be safe, healthy, and born. I want a supportive system that listens to my wants and desires and will not pressure me into making decisions contrary to what I am comfortable with. I want my baby to be able to stay in the room with me and only receive supplemental formula if absolutely necessary (as it was for Eamon). I want Thomas to be with me and Eamon to be able to visit me and the baby when he is born. If mom can be there too, that would be lovely, but if she can't, considering her crazy summer, I will not be crushed. Other than those things, I can't think of anything that is terribly important to me. Perhaps after a bad experience, I would have more qualifications, but like I said, I trust the practice/hospital that I am going to. And I trust God to take care of the details.
If things don't got as planned, it will just be another adventure. Right?
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