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You Are a Good Mom

Several years ago, I told a friend that her husband was a good dad. He was "hands on", really involved, caring, etc. She said thanks, he was. Then she mentioned that no one ever told her that she's a good mom - she does all the things her husband does, but doesn't get recognition because it's what people expect of mothers. Being a product of a society that places supermom expectations on women and very little expectations on men as fathers, I played right into it.

There's a hilarious scene in an episode entitled "Crazy Mom" on the ABC sitcom Blackish that illustrates this further. A dad is late to work because he helps out at his kids' school. He gets praise and a pass. A mom is just a bit later, explains that her kid is sick and it took her forever to get out of the house. She gets the stinkeye.

Now that I'm a mother I see this play out. There have been several times that I've been with Dash all day and stopped by to see Eric at work. He lovingly gives her a cuddle, maybe helps out with something and we part ways. Just about every time, someone will tell what a good dad he is. (He IS a fantastic dad.) I can't think of once in those instances that someone has told me I'm a good mom.

"Mother o' Mine" by Nick Kenrick via Flickr

There's a few issues here.

1) Expectations on women.
I'm not just "doing my job" by looking after Dash. I've made a choice to be her mom and it's often quite difficult. The skill set required is not somehow ingrained in my maternal DNA. The daily steps involved in keeping a tiny human alive and entertained do not happen because I have to be a mom. I'm not performing a role, I'm in a relationship with my child.

2) Expectations on men.
It makes me sad when folks have such low expectations of men as fathers. At least in my circles, dads are quite involved and those that aren't are considered jerks. Are people really that surprised when fathers are happy to see their children or consider nappy changes part of their responsibilities?

3) Affirmation goes a long way.
I'm not fishing for compliments and I get a lot of encouragement - my husband, parents, sister and close friends tell me I'm a good mom often enough. But I told a new mother recently that she's a good mom and she nearly cried. Would it hurt to tell both parents they are a good parent? Being a parent is hard and amazing and a little validation goes a long way.


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Emmanuel

I don't like Advent for the same reason I don't like Lent.

I don't like the waiting.

Not because I'm impatient, necessarily (although I am). It's more because I find it rather depressing.

Emmanuel - God is With Us.

Growing up, we always put baby Jesus in the manger straight away, when the decorations went up the weekend after Thanksgiving, before Advent even began. He was the centre of the story. (Aside - my dad was, however, a stickler for the historicity of the wise men coming a few years later and therefore gently demanded that they remain outside the stable.)

We've been to four Christmas markets this year, each in a different city, and seen a creche/Nativity scene in each. Jesus is missing in each one of them. I know it's a big deal to place the symbolic baby in the scene on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day but it just seems weird without him.

He's with us, right?

Image by Jeff Carter via Flickr

This year is a different sort of Christmas observation for us in many ways. For the first time ever, I'm not with my parents and sister. Living abroad and having my own little family necessitates this, at least for this year.

Also, we haven't attended a traditional carol service or Christmas mass. Due to sickness/travel/work we only made it to one Quaker meeting, and that was last week. The Friends believe that the Inner Light (Holy Spirit) is always in us - there's no waiting for that presence to come, only listening and tuning in.

Emmanuel.

So I suppose I haven't been waiting this season. Just trying to take hold of that light, that presence. I'm trying to make sense of a lot of things, trying to live above them.

So I need Jesus to be here, not to be coming. Because he is, and he has.

God is with Us.

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How We Celebrate

People often comment on how clever and thoughtful we are when it comes to our celebrations and gifts. Perhaps we can take a bit of credit for creativity, but the truth is that it's all planned. Every bit of it.

Some of the best advice we got in premarital counseling was to clearly communicate our expectations to each other. If I had secretly always wanted my husband to give my flowers on my birthday but never actually told him that's what I desired, then I had no right to get upset about it.

So early on, we set out plans for how we would like to celebrate holidays, birthdays and other occasions. That's not to say there's no room for spontaneity or change, but it does alleviate potential hurt feelings and provide something to look forward to.

Image via Flickr

Here are some examples:

*Valentine's Day - we do a chocolate exchange (yum!)

*Birthdays - we do surprise gifts (I know, we plan to surprise)

*Christmas - we request gifts (there are too many other gifts to think of for other people) within a budget

*Anniversaries - traditional gifts within a budget (so fun to come up with gifts to meet the year)

On top of our customary gifts, we might request something. This year on my birthday I asked Eric to plan a day trip getaway and keep the location a surprise. This is a major gift because I am a natural planner and therefore organise most of our travel. It doesn't come as organically to him but he does it well, so it's a nice break for me and a big effort on him part.

These planned traditions do not take away from the romance but add to it, because we trust the other's intentions and don't try to outdo each other. It works well.


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Five Reasons I Love Travel

When I was 17, my grandparents took my family on a trip to Israel. I told the travel guide how excited the whole trip made me, and she told me that traveling gets in your blood. By the end of the trip, it was. I had caught the travel bug, and there was no turning back.

Since we got married six years ago, my husband and I have visited something like fifteen countries. We save our pences, travel every chance we get and I am always happy we go. Here are some of the reasons I love traveling so much:


1) Worldview
I like to think that I have a pretty good understanding of the world, but it's not true. Every time I go somewhere, I learn so much. Prejudices I didn't even realise I have get challenged. I discover new ways of thinking, working and speaking. And I appreciate the world's diversity a little more.

2) Identity
Nothing shows me more about what it means to be an American/white/professional/Christian woman than seeing what life looks like through someone else's eyes. I get why people think Americans are loud when I travel via train in Europe. I understand that Christian churches are incredibly different - from the American South to Central America to the Middle East and beyond. And I realise that the U.S. government really is strange when compared to other democracies.

3) Food
We look forward to sampling food from each place we visit. I do not understand people who travel and then go to McDonald's because they are afraid of local cuisine. I have my limits on what I will try, of course. I think you learn a lot about a culture, its values and history through its food.

4) Challenge
Planning a trip, especially to a different country, is like a puzzle. Transport, lodging, meals, sight-seeing, etc. must all be considered. I spend a lot of time finding deals and putting together itineraries - and I love it. My husband enjoys the challenge of getting us around when we are there - following maps, figuring out trains and buses and finding shortcuts. The challenge of communication is always interesting, particularly with a language barrier.

5) Connection
Traveling with someone is an incredible bonding experience. You have stories to tell forever and you learn something about them on levels it's hard to achieve in daily life. I also find that traveling is a great way to connect with myself. Even when I'm with a group, I take some time alone to think and wander and take the opportunity for self-reflection and growth.


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Empathic Response

Empathy is the experience of understanding another person's condition from their perspective. You place yourself in their shoes and feel what they are feeling. Empathy is known to increase prosocial (helping) behaviors. While American culture might be socializing people into becoming more individualistic rather than empathic, research has uncovered the existence of "mirror neurons," which react to emotions expressed by others and then reproduce them.-Psychology Today

After another mum told me she was so tired from waking up twice the night before, I responded by saying something like "if only I just woke up twice! that would be heavenly!"

After I told another mum that I'd been up every 30 minutes with my little one (who was cutting her molars), she responded that her baby had just cut a tooth and she didn't even notice. My heart sank. I was at the end of my rope exhausted, while those two didn't have any difficulty at all.

Neither scenario is best.

I chatted with yet another mum this week who feels disconnected from her birth group because they have all become so competitive. Everyone has a better sleeper, eater, walker, talker, etc. than she does. She doesn't feel supported.

And then there's toddlers. When "Dash, we eat blueberries, not knives" results in a fit of hysteria, I want to tell her she's ridiculous.


"Empathic Lines" by Javier Del Amo Varona via flickr

I've basically decided I don't have the time or energy to be judgemental or competitive. But I do need to make the space to respond with grace.

No matter how much harder or easier my situation seems at the moment or in the past, I'm trying to respond to the present of my companions. "I'm sorry your sleep was disrupted, that's always difficult" is a better response than immediately dishing out my own concerns, trying to one-up the sleep deprivation. "Dash, I understand that you are confused that you can grab one thing but not the other and you're upset that you can't do something that seems interesting, but I want you to be safe" would be the kind of response that requires me to see things from her perspective, change my tone and support her while still setting boundaries.

We are wired for empathy, but it's also a learned skill. I'm trying to seize the different levels of practice offered in my life.

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A Midwife's Tale

Each year in my American history course, we spend a class day with dohistory.org discussing the history of midwifery in the United States. Historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich wrote the brilliant book A Midwife's Tale after deciphering the handwriting in Martha Ballard's 27 years of journals. This website allows students to analyse portions of the journal, advertisements, newspaper articles, probate records and other documents that give insight into 18th century American life through the lens of birth.

"The 1793 Man-Mid-Wife cartoon that you see above depicts one view of the controversy in the form of a 'Monster,' a half-male, half-female midwife." -dohistory.org

The sphere of birth was attended almost exclusively by women until the mid-1700s. (This timeline offers a good overview of the change over time.) "Man-midwives", male doctors, in the colonies (and Britain) began to compete with midwives. They offered more medical training, used drugs and they cost more so there was a status to it.

It's interesting to hear the perspective of high school students regarding this history. Most of them have never really thought about birth or questioned how it's done now, so it's a good opportunity to discuss it.

Of course I don't see male doctors as monsters, nor do I see medicalized birth as a complete tragedy. But I do think it's important to understand the historical context of modern birth. Personally, I'm quite happy I questioned today's practices and sought alternative routes. I believe my own experience was richer for it.

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Who First?

Does my child come first? My husband? Myself? Yes.

I often hear conflicting advice about care:

"Put on your own oxygen mask first."

"Your child is only young once - pour all your energy into her."

"If your husband doesn't come first, the romance will dwindle and your marriage will decline."

I actually agree with each of these statements. I just happen to think you can do it all. I prefer to think that my family comes first - all three of us at once.

Societally, we are so bad at living holistically. We compartmentalise everything. So it can be a challenge to live this way.

Photo credit: Graham Detonator on flickr

It's really just an extension of our egalitarian relationship. We attempt to operate based on needs and gifts/skills/likes versus role functions. In practical terms, that means that if one of us is working more, the other does more housework. On an emotional level, that means that if one of us is having a particularly difficult time, the other provides more support.

In our family, I constantly adjust the rhythm of who needs what and when. Obviously, Dash is tiny and cannot meet her own needs. But that doesn't mean I have to meet all those needs. She has her dad and a host of loving family and friends. Some days she needs me more than others - during a developmental leap or during illness, for example. Sometimes Eric needs my undivided attention and that means assuring that Dash will be cared for either with good sleep or someone else. And sometimes I need serious self care, which means I need to trust them both in order to give myself some freedom.

Each day is give and take. I have time set aside for just me, just me and Dash, just me and Eric and all three of us. But sometimes the days look much different and we all adjust. Open communication (even Dash has her way of communicating needs!) assures we all get what we need and that everyone comes first.










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The Ministry of Existence

We've been admiring Quakers (also known as the Society of Friends) from afar for some time now. Through studying and teaching U.S. history, I've learned a lot about their origins, development and beliefs. (History.com has a great overview article here and a fantastic podcast from BBC Radio 4 discusses the history of Quakers in Britain on In Our Time with Melvyn Bragg.) We love the commitment to peace, justice and equality.

Years ago I met a professor at a Quaker university who explained that her students called her by first name because it demonstrated their belief that all are equal in the family of God. I loved that idea.

In Houston, we visited the Live Oak Friends Meeting House a few times. The Skyspace there is a breathtaking way to meditate as the sun sets. We attended the Houston Peace Festival there were I was so impressed at the variety of social justice causes Quakers participate in. A modern dance company performed a piece illustrating a place where different people groups lived in harmony next to one another.

A few years ago, we toured Friends House London a part of Open House London. Again we were impressed to learn about Quaker initiatives and the diversity of Friends.


We've been in limbo regarding church attendance for a while now. When I got pregnant we hardly went because I was so ill. We felt we had outgrown our church anyway and decided it was time to move on. We have visited churches on and off the last year but never felt connected.

So a few weeks ago we started visiting Friends meetings again. Quakers in Britain are unprogrammed, meaning the meeting is silent. AboutQuakers describes this as "an active silence of a community gathered together in expectation." If one feels moved by "Inner Light" to share, they do so. Christ is the light that lives in each of us. There is no single minister because everyone is a minister. The meeting begins when the first person enters the room and ends with the shaking of hands and the exchanging of peace. (If you are really interested in Quaker faith and practice, Advices and Queries is what to read.)

It's hard to be silent for an hour. It's even hard to be silent for half an hour, which is what we do because one of us takes Dash out of the room (she begins and ends with us in the meeting). The first time neither one of us could settle into it. Years and years of "programmed" religion did not allow much space and time for quiet. Decades of works-based faith (that simultaneously claimed good works don't secure salvation) left me to interpret this sort of silence as "doing nothing."

But by our second visit, we welcomed the silence. I drank it in, really. I just listened. I struggled. I let go. I felt the Spirit in the room and inside me. It was amazing. Of course I do not expect a magical experience each time, but I am in love with the whole idea of it.

Everyone said how happy they were to have Dash there, and one woman told me she loved her ministry. My tiny baby has a MINISTRY. Merely because she exists. I have a ministry, because I exist. Eric has a ministry, because he exists. All are equal in the family of God.

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Why We Write

I've been writing for a long time. I have shelves full of journals at my parents' house starting when I was a pre-teen. I wrote my prayers and poetry and observations to no one in particular. Journaling felt so good. It was a release, a way to process, a way to understand myself and the world.

Having my stories or poems published felt very important, even if it was just the homeschool newsletter or the community college lit mag.

Writing meant the most to me when I became ill at 18 with a mystery condition, which left me with chronic fatigue for years. In the years before I was finally diagnosed with Lyme's Disease, writing was a safe haven, and often the only place I could make sense of my feelings.

Academic writing offered an amazing challenge to bring research and structured essays together. It was also the cause of many late nights and confidence crises. Finally having my dissertation bound felt like the greatest accomplishment.

The Writer, Ruth Chaney via The Met


When I started blogging years ago, it was a small way to share my writing into the ether. It created some sort of accountability, a way to organise my ideas, a platform to offer my little insights.

So when the world is saturated with blogs and everyone has ideas about everything, I still appreciate having this corner of the internet to put my words on the metaphorical page.


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