Why We Mommy War

Catch up on previous Mommy Wars posts HERE!

Most of us know this mommy war business needs to stop.  I'm guessing we'd all be in favor of turning OFF judgments, hurtful comments, controversy, polarization, and unsolicited advice.  I'm also guessing we'd all be in favor of turning ON love, mutual respect, and support...

But really - where is that ON/OFF switch?  

If you find it, let me know.  I've been searching for it for the last two years.  I'd love to just flip a switch and feel more warm fuzzies towards mamas I disagree with, but try as I may, I can't get over my passionate viewpoints and emotions long enough to want to hug moms who just don't get it.

I don't even want to high five them.

And I will certainly not be holding their hands, singing Kumbaya around a campfire any time soon.

...

So there you have it.  Mommy Wars will never end because Liza Jane DeYounge is an opinionated, judgmental, brat-of-a-mama who can't seem to "play nice."

I know.  I am the problem.

Maybe others of you struggle, like me?  Anyone?  ...  Bueller?

We can continue to grit our teeth, fake a smile and pretend we respect and support those we disagree with (even as we think, "They are SO wrong!")...  We can modify our behaviors towards other moms and be nice to each other on the outside...  But, we (and by "we," I mean "I") really need to dig a little deeper to get to the heart of this issue.

First, let me get the Sunday School answer out of the way.  Why do we war against other moms?  Because we are sinners.  We are prone to wander, we are liable to judge, we are apt to disrespect our fellow sisters in Christ.

WE NEED JESUS.

Please hear that loud and clear.  Without Him and His grace, we will continue to fail.  More and more sisters will fall - casualties in a tragic war.  We need to pray that, ultimately, our hearts would be transformed from the inside out, and that our attitudes and actions would be more like Jesus'.

Though I think this first truth - we war because we are sinners - is the most important truth, I am going to spend more time unpacking two other ideas, mostly because I think they are less obvious and are less talked about in our mommy circles.  This next statement might surprise you...

I don't think Mommy Wars are ALL BAD.

In fact, I think a lot of facets of our wars are GOOD.

Why?

We war because we care!

We should care!  Caring is good and necessary and completely foundational in being a mom.  Our children are our most prized possessions - among our very greatest blessings.  Our kids are our most precious treasures. 

No wonder our hearts grieve over parenting decisions.  No wonder we lie wide awake in the middle of the night worrying about our kids' health.  No wonder we over-research and over-analyze every approach in raising our little ones.  No wonder we are meticulous.  No wonder we are guarded.  No wonder we are passionate about our beliefs.  Our love and our care and our zeal for our little ones becomes so strong that when someone, or something, comes against (or even disagrees with) those beliefs and approaches, it cuts to our core - deep into our hearts, and the urge to draw our weapons is a natural response.

We should not be surprised by this.

We should not be ashamed of this.

Feeling strongly about our children and taking our parenting seriously are not things we need to apologize for.  We should take a stand, fight, bleed and war for the things that matter most.

Taking this a step further, we war because we were made to war.

Why else would we be commanded by GOD to put on armor, of all things?  Why else would we be called to "fight the good fight" as a "good soldier of Christ Jesus?"  Language of battles, soldiers, weapons, war and fights are all over the Bible.  Heck, even if you don't care about the Bible, why else would the "Mama Bear" instinct to defend, protect and fight come so naturally?

There is something instinctual, woven into the fabric of our DNA, that will continue to spur us on in battling - even dying - for our most precious treasures.

...

This is where things get a little tricky. Though we should care, and though we were made to war, I believe our passionate beliefs and our mommy wars are, largely, misguided.

The gigantic problem in all of this is that we are warring against each other instead of uniting with each other to fight against our real enemy.  

More on this later.

The Best Iced Coffee + A Free Printable!

Just last night, a friend asked me about my iced coffee recipe, which reminded me I hadn't posted this yet.  Lame.  Better late than never, yes?

When the weather gets warmer, this is a necessity in our house!

You can find the full recipe HERE, from The Pioneer Woman, and here are a handful of tips from yours truly!

1) I always use Starbucks ground coffee.  It is a little more expensive, but worth the investment.

2) I always use a DECAF roast.  This is just a preference, but I like to drink iced coffee even late in the day, so decaf is the way to go for me.

3) I have yet to find cheesecloth (to strain the grounds) in my little town.  I have always used a (clean, new - wink, wink!) cloth diaper insert, and it works great!

4) When the summer dishes go on sale at Wal-Mart and Target, I stock up on pretty bottles, then use them to give iced coffee gifts!  The bottles in the picture were just over $1 a piece on clearance.  We've used it for inexpensive Mother's Day gifts and presents for our sweet babysitters.

5) Remember, this is a CONCENTRATE, so you will need to add ice, creamer, or whatever else when you actually serve the drink.  When I give the concentrate as gifts, I use baker's twine to tie a pretty tag on the bottle with instructions.  Snag my printable tags HERE for FREE!

6) This keeps in your fridge for a few weeks.  Beyond that point, though, I think it starts to taste funny.  Mark doesn't notice it, but for you highly sensitive folks, heads up.  Bleh.

Good luck, friends!  Enjoy!

On Mommy Wars

I had no idea what I was getting into.

Though I had read all the books, gone to the classes, talked to all the professionals and over-researched every tiny, intricate, detail of birth and parenting, nothing prepared me for what was in store when I had my first child.

Nobody told me how judgmental, how hurtful, how alienating and how hot the Mommy Wars would rage around me.  

Oh.

You thought I was going to talk about something else?  Like, how unprepared I was for the amount of poop that could come out of a tiny, seven pound baby?  Or how surprised I was by the overwhelming love that filled my heart the first time I laid eyes on my son?  Or how unready I was to tackle the real life messiness of what it means to be a mama?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Those things, too.

But really, guys.  I just have to talk about these Mommy Wars for a minute.

They are the worst.

I had no idea we mamas could find so much to fight about.  Natural births or scheduled c-sections?  Pacifiers or nipple confusion?  Breastfeeding or straight formula?  Or pumping?  Or exclusively pumping?  Circumcision or not?  Swaddles or no?  Baby-wearing?  Co-Sleeping?  Sleep Training?  Cry it out?  Attachment parenting?  And vaccines!  What about those?!  Organic?  Pesticides?  Maternity leave?  Stay-at-home?  Work from home?  Daycare?  Cloth diapers?  Disposable?  

The list makes me anxious just writing it.  

Those of us who tend to be more assertive join the war with our disapproving looks, our pointed questions, our not-so-helpful horror stories, and our not-so-helpful unsolicited advice.  Those of us who tend to be more passive aggressive join the fight by "just" posting controversial and polarizing articles on Facebook, and slipping in snide remarks when we're in the company of likeminded friends.  "Can you believe they let their baby cry it out?!"  If you're like me, you tend to stay out of the trenches and more on the sidelines, but your mind becomes the battlefield - I stay up at night fighting these dumb battles in my head.  "Am I really making the right decision?  What will so-and-so think?  How would anyone in their right mind do that?!  How selfish.  How naive."  

I don't think any mom is immune.  The battle rages on - all around us - and it seems to show up in every detail of our parenting.

Praise the Lord, some of us aren't buying it.  There are so many great mamas out there who are sounding the alarm and saying, "This Mommy War stuff is a load of crap, and we should not be fighting this much!  Stop, stop, stop!"  High fives - all around.  

Many articles I have read in regard to ending Mommy Wars have hovered around some common themes - judge less, love more, put yourself in another mom's shoes, be respectful, etc.  Though I heartily agree with these sentiments, I have felt like something was missing.

I'm not sure these approaches really get to the root of the issue.  We can modify our behaviors, keep trimming back the weeds of judgments and disrespectful comments and polarizing Facebook articles, we can keep desperately trying to love each other more, but until we really pull up the roots and get to the heart of the problem, those stubborn weeds will keep growing back.  Another, different issue will pop up, we will be offended or defensive or passionate, and we will jump into battle all over again.  And, beyond pulling up the weeds, how in the world do we disagreeing mamas build positive relationships in the space that's cleared?

I would like to take another handful of blog posts to talk more in depth about these sorts of things.  I won't be writing as someone who has this all figured out.  Heck, I still pick up my sword and join the Mommy Wars all-too-often.  Instead, I will be writing as a weak, sinful, somebody who is fed up with the way things are, and who wants to be part of the change I am hoping to see in the world.  The only way I know how to tackle this warring epidemic, at least right now, is to continue the discussion through some of my writing.  

Because we need to keep talking about this.  We need to keep chipping away at the issue, or it will continue to rage.  Let these blog posts provoke some thinking and some talking and some changing, in however the Lord leads.

Up next?  What might be at the heart of all of our mommy warring.  

About Grace

When little sister goes down without a fight so you can play outside with big brother for an extra hour before the summer sun goes down.  Grace.

When you hear that same little sister crying at night and are sure you'll have to drag your butt out of bed to feed her another bottle, but then.....  Quiet.  Grace.

When your doctor says, "This is nothing I'm concerned about.  This is completely normal."  Grace.

When you plan to be rushed and short on time, but then the appointment is quick, so you have time to run an extra errand and stroll through a beautiful greenhouse inhaling the sweet smell of wet dirt.  Grace.

When your mother-in-law offers to watch your older one while you put your younger one down, uninterrupted, for the night.  Grace.

When your toddler gets to see a rainbow for the first time - full and bright, arching across your back patio.

When you've been meaning to buy a basket to put in that certain spot for months, and when you finally remember to put it on your errand list, and when your aunt (who has no idea) walks in the door that morning with, you guessed it - a basket.  And it fits perfectly.  Grace.

When, finally, for the third time in a row, your littlest one is good for a babysitter, and you can begin to taste the sweetness of some time away again.  Grace.

When it's rainy, and you have quiet time in the car with a latte.  Grace.

When you get to sit in cool grass with your toddler, watching the neighbors fly kites across the street.  When your toddler is mezmerized by the kite-flying, and he sits still next to you, his pudgy hand in your lap, for a whole 10 minutes.

When there's nothing left to do but drink a glass of wine, eat a piece of chocolate and watch your favorite show.

When you've fought all night, when you've acted like a jerk, and then, when the lights are out and the day is done, your husband still pulls you in to cuddle.  Grace.

The Smallest Prayers

For the last several months, we have been teaching Will to pray.  At our mealtimes, we ask him what he wants to talk to Jesus about today.

His answers?

Papa.

Chicken.

Baby Yoo-eee (Lewie - his newest cousin).

Every single time.  For months.

"Hey, Champ!  What should we talk to Jesus about tonight?"

"Papa!"

"Okay!  What else?"

"Kick-in!"

"Sure!  We'll thank Jesus for chicken - you love chicken nuggets, don't you?  Anything else we should pray to Jesus about?"

"Baby Yoo-eee."

"Okay.  Good deal.  Let's pray..."

Months passed, and we laughed a little bit every time Will asked to pray for chicken.  We thought it was cute.  He loves chicken nuggets, so we assumed it was one of the first things he thought of at the supper table.

Except he prayed for chicken every day.  And we do not have chicken nuggets every day...or even close to every day, for that matter.

And then things changed.

Just lately, Will has only mentioned that he's wanted to pray for Papa and Baby Lewie - no chicken.

"Huh," I thought to myself.  "I guess he's moved on.  What a funny guy."

And, then it hit me...

I was absentmindedly listening to MPR (Minnesota Public Radio) today and amongst the reel of hourly news updates, I heard something along the lines of, "There are no new avian flu cases to be reported, quarantine zones are being lifted and chicken farmers are beginning to restock their facilities..."

And then I remembered this New York Times article, posted last month:

Egg Farms Hit Hard as Bird Flu Affects Millions of Hens

A couple of months ago, our little rural town was trying to wrap its mind around the devastation that had hit our local egg and chicken farm.  Thousands and thousands of hens died, workers were struggling to dispose of the waste, keep the virus under control, and wondering if they would have a job in the future.  Truckers and farmers and ag businessmen were worried.  Fear was thick.  Prayer meetings were called and our city cried out for an end to the avian flu.

And, unbeknownst to me, all along, my little 24-month-old Will was praying, too.  "Jesus, help kick-ins." Put an end to the avian flu...

And the Lord heard and answered.

So then, lo and behold, Will knew he could stop praying for the chickens

And today, MPR caught on with reports of cancelled quarantines.

So, let it be known - the smallest prayers are not small at all.  Our great, strong, powerful and mighty Deliverer moves heaven and earth in partnership with the tiniest sound of, "Jesus, help!"

Let it be known - our children do not have a "junior" Holy Spirit.  The fullness of the Holy Spirit moves and calls and uses even our littlest ones for His great purposes.

Sorry Not Sorry!

Hi, I'm Liza, and I am an Over-Apologizer...

Spell Check is telling me "apologizer" isn't even a real word, so let me explain...  To you and to Spell Check.

A compilation of quotes from my own, nasty mouth lately:

I'm so sorry - my house is in shambles.  I'm so sorry - my hair is such a rat's nest!  I'm so sorry - our kids are so crazy...  So sorry - I didn't make it out of sweatpants today.  I'm so sorry - we're just having cold meat sandwiches.  I'm so sorry - my car is so dirty! 

From Myquillyn Smith in The Nesting Place:

"Oh, just ignore the window, we've been meaning to get new drapes."  "I've been trying to get my husband to paint that wall forever."  "I'm so sorry, those pillows just don't look right on our old sofa."  After the tour, she covered everything with a shocking statement, "I'm so embarrassed.  This house is such a mess."  Every time someone came to the door for our gathering, she welcomed her with an apology, making sure to point out every flaw (I couldn't find any) so the guest was sure to know that she knew her home was less than perfect.  All I could think was that if this beautiful, well-appointed home wasn't good enough for her, then my ramshackle, motley house certainly would never be okay.

Ugh.  That last sentence is a kicker, isn't it?

The tricky thing is that our apologies don't always start with an obvious, "I'm so sorry..."  Words like "just" and "only," for example, can be just as apologetic and just as hurtful.

A few years back, I was at a get-together with some acquaintances.  I overheard a well-dressed lady received a compliment from another gal.

Gal: That is such a cute dress!  Where did you get it?

Well-Dressed Lady: Oh...just Gap.

Me in My Head: Gap?!  JUST Gap?!  It's only from Gap.  I would kill to dress in Gap clothing.  If she thinks Gap is just normal-everyday-humdrum-Gap, then what does she think about my five-year-old Target clearance shirt??  I would love to have the kind of clothing budget that considers Gap no big deal.  Humph.

These were light bulbs for me - if apologizing for a messy house or devaluing the privilege of shopping at a nice store can make others feel insecure and "less than," certainly I should take stock of my own apologies.

And you know what?  In taking stock, in asking the Lord to search my heart, I've discovered the tendency to over-apologize is really a deeper issue.

Over-apologizing and devaluing is really a heart issue...

Over-apologizing can reveal a heart of ungratefulness.
When we apologize for our tattered sofa and two-seasons-old clothing, we admit we are discontent.  We wish to have better, we are dissatisfied with what we have, things are not good enough.

Over-apologizing can expose a heart rooted in score-keeping and comparisons.
When we apologize for ordering "just" pizza and eating on paper plates when our friends recently hosted us for a prime rib dinner with fancy napkins, we reveal we are keeping score.  We measure and weigh each other, and force competition and performance.  We enlist others in a game of comparisons.

Over-apologizing can point to our pride.
We want to be perceived as being modest, so we say we are "only" going on a short, three-day vacation to Cabo.  We take pride in being humble, so when someone compliments us on our accomplishments, we act as if they aren't such a big deal.  We want to appear relatable and down-to-earth, so we devalue our privilege, our wealth, our beauty, our success and our talents.  At its best, this is false humility and false modesty.  At its worst, this points to a prideful heart that would pity and/or look down upon others who you feel are "less" fortunate, "less" wealthy, "less" beautiful, "less" successful or "less" talented.  (Again, please see above on score-keeping...)

Over-apologizing can reveal our insecurities.
We are quick to apologize so others will know we know we "missed the mark," and have much higher standards for ourselves.  We fear others will think we are horrible parents who are okay with chaos, so we apologize for our crazy kids.  We are worried others will think we are terrible housekeepers and love to live in filth, so we apologize for our messy houses.  We are insecure about our weight and that others will think we are lazy couch potatoes, so we apologize for looking "fat" and bloated.              

Instead of ungratefulness, let's cultivate a heart of thanksgiving.
The Nester encourages us to look at our old and tattered sofas with gratefulness - seeing the tears and stains and rumpled appearance as signs of life.  Our tattered sofas have been used, cuddled on, jumped on, and loved well.  Perfect sofas are for model homes and vacant houses.

Instead, let's stop keeping score and cheer others on.
Hooray for talented cooks who whip up prime rib just for fun!  Hooray for fit mamas who run half-marathons on the weekends!  Hooray for tidy housekeepers that remember to make their beds everyday!  When others do something well, if we aren't keeping score or comparing, we will avoid the temptation to apologize for not doing something as well.  We will be too busy celebrating others and we'll forget about our "have nots."

Instead, let's celebrate our gifts!
A few years ago, one of my friends was able to buy a brand new Coach purse.  The minute I saw her, she ran to me excitedly, held out her purse, and said, "Look at this!  I've been waiting forever for this baby!  Don't you LOVE it?!"  Instead of devaluing such a privilege, she rejoiced in it and counted it a huge blessing.  I was able to share in her joy and slap a high five.

Instead, let's be confident in our identity.
Recently, I complimented a friend on her talents as a beautician.  Instead of saying, "Oh, it's not such a big deal.  I should really be better..."  She beamed and said something like, "Thanks!!  It's a gift God gave me, and I love to use it!"  Her response was so refreshing.  She owns it.  She rocks it.  She knows who she is, who she's called to be, and she kills it.

Our over-apologizing, our insecurities, our ungratefulness, our pride and our devaluing is crippling and deceiving us.

The Nester (I promise this is the last time I'll reference her), wrote about visiting her sponsor child from Compassion:

I had braced myself for shock and sadness and guilt and hopelessness over Topiwo's house.  I knew his family had struggled to survive through drought until Compassion stepped in to help.  But after visiting his beautiful dirt home, I didn't feel sad about where Topiwo lives.  Unlike most of the homes we had visited, Topiwo's home was rich with love and community and joy and gracefulness.  Richer than a lot of homes I see in our country.   

I need to be more less apologetic and more confident and grateful for my "beautiful dirt."  I am so rich in so many things.

I should care less about my mess, and be more thankful for my lived in house.  I should care less about my cellulite and celebrate my healthy body.  I should care less about my thrifted clothes and rejoice in the opportunity to shop at all!

The less we apologize for silly things, the more we give others freedom and permission to be themselves - imperfections and all.

SO sorry for saying, "Sorry!"  (wink, wink!)

Hold me to this, friends.  I am such a work in progress...

(AND, go get The Nesting Place!  Such a great read...)