The devil and the deep blue sea

I know I have several months' worth of pictures and a birth story to post, but there's a topic I've been thinking about for a while, and this week's controversial Time Magazine brought it to my attention again: the mommy wars.

Time Magazine's cover of  a 26 year old  mother nursing her three year old son started a firestorm of protestations about how perverse or weird it was, comments about how formula feeding is better or as good as breastfeeding (Really? We're going there again? I know some women can't breasfeed, and I don't condemn them, but it's been scientifically proven over and again that breast is best), and just plain nastiness. Now, I've been nursing for the last five years, and Mercy was nearly three until she weaned, so I think extended breastfeeding is a wonderful thing, but the whole theme of the magazine was attachment parenting, and extended breastfeeding is only one small part of that. But instead of perhaps showing a photo of Dr. Sears, the well-known AP champion, they feature a breastfeeding mom with the words "Are You Mom Enough?" Fantastic job, Time. Instead of bringing a great alternative parenting style to the public's attention and helping to normalize extended breastfeeding in our culture, something that's normal in most of the world, you toss gasoline on the flames of an already hot debate and cutthroat occupation--motherhood. Way to be divisive!

Home birthers are ignorant morons, risking their own, and worse, their babies's lives. Moms who birth in the hospital or take pain meds aren't woman enough to do something so natural on their own.

Stay at home moms are lazy and spend all day having fun and doing nothing meaningful. Working moms are allowing other people to raise their children.

Attachment moms are helicopter moms whose kids will never learn to do anything for themselves, and non-attachment moms are disconnected and cold.

Breastfeeding moms are perverted and just want to flash their breasts in public. Bottle feeding moms are depriving their babies of nutrients and putting their intelligence and immunity at risk.

Peaceful parents are permissive, and disciplinarian parents are harsh and abusive.

Homeschooling moms are distrustful and raising maladjusted failures. Moms who send their children to school just don't want to be bothered with their academic well-being.

Parents who don't vaccinate are endangering the whole world, and parents who do are lemmings, blindly following the dubious recommendations of the APA and risking autism.

I've even noticed this among Christian moms...the competition, the my-way-is-better-than-your-way, or worse, my-way-is-the-only-way. It goes on and on. I find it particularly disturbing among my Christian friends because we truly do want the same thing: to bring up healthy, happy children who love Jesus, and are productive members of society. And really, no matter what the background, all good parents just want the best for their kids, so why all the competition? Why can't moms support one another and respect the different ways of approaching motherhood? The how-to books don't take into consideration different personalities and temperaments (of the parent AND child) and the best way for one family may be the WORST way for another family. We moms, who intimately know our children, sometimes have a hard time figuring out what's best for them, so having someone else tell us what's best is downright insulting. We really need to give one another the benefit of the doubt before we judge whether someone is a good or bad mom.

Here's to the moms. Whether you're an attachment parent or not, a homeschooler or not, a stay-at-home mom or not, motherhood is one of the hardest jobs on earth, and there are very few moments of immediate gratification. The everyday battles are often fraught with uncertainty. I mean, none of us knows if we're doing it right until our children turn out. It's a marathon...an 18 year marathon (at least!)... not a sprint, and moms deserve a month, not a day, to celebrate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into bringing up our children. Happy Mother's Day!

Introducing...

SHILOH ENOCH

Born at home

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

(Mercy's 5th birthday)

7:04 pm

9 pounds 12 ounces

21.5 inches long

Shiloh is the place Hannah prayed for a child: "The Lord was kind to Hannah, and she had three sons..." I Samuel 2:21

"And Enoch walked with God..." Genesis 5:24

Open mouth, insert sock

I have become increasingly nervous about taking my children out, as I never, never know what they're going to say.  I talked about Judah's chattiness recently, but sometimes their unintentional mistakes with the fine English language make me cringe. Judah is going through the phase of announcing with gusto any objects we pass while we're driving along: " A WATER TOWER! MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY! A WATER TOWER! LOOK!"  "CAR CARRIER! A CAR CARRIER CARRYING NEW CARS! LOOK MOMMY! A CAR CARRIER!" "AHHH! A TOWER CRANE AND BASTRUCTION BEHICLES! BASTRUCTION BEHICLES! LOOKLOOKLOOK!"  (Combine this 300 decibel narration with Zion's shrieking, and Mercy's incessant commentary: Iwonderwhat'sinthatfreighttruck,mom.Mommommommy!What's inthatfreighttruck?Mommyanswerme.What'sinthatfreighttruck?" and you won't wonder why my hearing isn't what it used to be, and why a padded room looks attractive more often than I care to admit. Silence, where art thou?)

This fall, Judah, who is interested in all things about farming, found the freshly cut corn stalks and straw bales in the fields fascinating. Whenever we would pass a field with the large round bales dotting the scenery, he would shout "HELLBELLS! HELLBELLS MOMMY! HELLBELLS! LOOK!" Benj and I had to hide our snickering and firmly correct him: "Judah, it's HAY bales. Say HAY BALES."  Judah: "Yes. Hellbells."

We were recently riding along and we were listening to one of the Manheim Steamroller Christmas discs. When a new song came on, Judah shouted "FLUTE!" I said, "No, Buddy, I think that's actually a tin or penny whistle. It's kind of like a flute, but it's higher and more tinny." To which Mercy replied confidently, "It's a titty whistle." Ooohhh-kay. Tin OR penny whistle, not both.

I was fortunate that both of these conversations happened in the car, but I can imagine some of these words emanating from my innocent, sweet-looking children's mouths in the store, or in church. It will happen. I'm bracing myself.

Preview

This is the first time in four pregnancies that I've had a 4-D ultrasound. I don't usually have ultrasounds this late in pregnancy, but my midwife ordered one for our peace of mind after I was hospitalized with a virus and severe dehydration a few weeks ago. Apparently some viruses can cause heart failure in developing babies, so we just wanted a peek to make sure everything is fine. The ultrasound tech was fabulous. She explained everything to the other three children and pointed out little fingers, toes, the spine, brain, and heart (everything but the sex, wink). Then, to my surprise, she did 4-D images. She had a hard time getting a full facial, because the umbilical cord was right in front of the mouth and nose, and after being aggravated by the ultrasound for 40 minutes and performing impressive gymnastics, the baby was ready for a nap and we couldn't get him/her to move around enough to get the cord out of the way. So we only got partial views, but I'm delighted. It was almost like seeing a photo of the baby instead of a grainy ultrasound. He/she was around 3 pounds (measuring a week big, as usual!), so it has about 7 pounds to gain to be a proper Sommers baby. Anyway, here is a preview of our newest family member:

Judah wants a new mommy

I'm very grateful that Judah has learned that screaming "Owwww! Stop pinching me!" and "OOOOOOHHH! You're hurting me!" and "NOOOOOOO! DON'T SPANK ME!" in Target, the doctor's office and other public places for no apparent reason other than to get an unsuspecting stranger to call Child Protective Services was not having the desired effect. He's decided, in the typical manipulative fashion of a three year old, that being charming is much more successful. With his big blonde head, wide blue eyes, and irrisistable grin, I can see, I guess, why everyone from old ladies (and men!) to teenage girls swoon over him when he turns it on full force. His new MO is to call out "Hi! It's good to see you!" or "Have a good day!" or "Fine, thank you!" when someone even looks at him or asks him how he is. He even goes so far as to turn his winsome face up to cashiers and ask "Did you miss me?" And while I certainly prefer this to the temper-tantrum throwing, screaching, backtalking toddler that I know, sometimes his friendliness is just too much.

Yesterday, we had errands that had to be done--and had to be done yesterday. No waiting till I could leave the monkeys with Benj. Fun stuff like the courthouse to renew car registration, the lab for bloodwork (for me, fortunately), and the post office to mail a package. These chores are enough to bore me to tears, so I do try to have some compassion for three little ones, as I can imagine how interminably unfun it all is, especially in Christmas traffic and long lines. Besides charming the postal worker and making everyone in line with us grin, Judah was full of friendly quips and conversation yesterday. Except that so much of what he says could be used to make a case that I'm an unfit mother.

Judah, to random lady waiting in the lab: "My underwear are on backwards."
Mommy: "Judah..."
Judah: "My bum is ALWAYS bare."
I'm sure that lady was so glad she said "hi" to Judah.

Judah, to random tax office lady in the courthouse: "I live in a cave."

Judah, to random lady in line at Target: "My belly hurts from eating cat food."
(Have I ever mentioned that we don't have cats...that I don't LIKE cats? For some reason, Judah has recently been pretending he is Huckle from Richard Scarry's stories. We have to call him Huckle, and his meals are "cat food" and he sleeps in his "cat bed." This is where that comment came from, but what would you think if a toddler in the store told you that he had a bellyache from eating cat food?)

I suspect that Judah, er, Huckle, is tired of having me for a mother and is trying to figure out the quickest way to get put in foster care.

To Brighten Your (and my) Day

Mercy, coming down the steps of her bunk bed after a particularly punishing night with Zion after moving all three children into the same room: "Oh what a dreadful night I had! Zion screamed his fool head off all night long."

Judah, calling from the playroom: "Mommy! Come! Mercy is acting like a maniac!"

Judah, tearfully, after falling over one of the wheeled toys when using it improperly: "Not very clever!"

Judah, after being told to clean up his mess: "My belly hurts from picking up."

Mercy, having a one-sided conversation on her cell phone while she watched me put concealer on my face in the car before going into Target: "We're just at Target.  Hmm. No, we haven't gone inside yet. We're just waiting on Mom. She's decorating her face."

Mercy, after Grandma told her on the phone that she was at the drugstore: "Mom, Grandma says she's at a junk food store."

Mercy, when eating a dessert: "Mommy, is this expensive?"
Mommy: "Expensive? What does that mean? (I was surprised as we don't really discuss money or expense with them.)
Mercy: "It means if you eat too much your belly hurts."
Mommy: "Oh, do you mean rich? Yes, the dessert is rich."
Mercy: "Oh yes, rich."

Judah, very loudly in a food aisle in Target: "MOMMY, IS THIS A JUNK FOOD STORE?
Mercy: "Yes. It's junk food. Mommy, why do people eat junk food? They must not have Jesus in their hearts to eat all that junk food."
(That just wiped out an entire denomination. You know who you are.)
Mommy assured them that having Jesus in your heart has nothing to do with eating junk food.

Mercy, sighing dramatically when picking up the messy play room: "I wish Adam and Eve hadn't sinned in the Garden. Then we wouldn't make such big messes."

Thankful for my funny monkeys, who for all the times they make me want to cry, make me laugh. Happy Thanksgiving!

Birthday photos

For all the other things I've let slide, I've been very disciplined about getting the children's pictures taken for their birthdays. I was a little late getting the photo shoot scheduled, but the real reason I'm so late getting these posted is that Benj and I had a terrible time picking the ones we wanted. The photographer, Deanna Martin, of Country Lane Photography, gave me permission to post the pictures, but we were so indecisive, we JUST decided to buy the whole disc so we could have ALL the pictures, and it arrived the other day. Anyway, here are Mercy's 4th, Judah's 3rd (a little early...he was actually still a month away from 3 when these were taken), and Zion's 1st birthday photos.