No Ugly Mommies

"Random thought:

If there are no ugly babies

it stands to reason that there can be no ugly mothers."

I wish I could take credit for this beautiful logic, but this quote is from Antique Mommy...a woman only slightly older than myself, who is thankfully and joyously parenting a young child in her older age, just like me.

It made so much sense I wanted to laugh, applaud and buy her a latte.  Maybe some day.

It reminded me of a conversation I had with my little darling, 8 year old Rebekah. She overheard some of her friends talking about their moms and how they all thought their own mothers were beautiful.

Beka said,

"I thought I was the only one who thinks her mom is beautiful." 

I was touched and thrilled.  She thinks I am beautiful.  This little one of mine doesn't see the wrinkles and gray hair.  I don't have the same body,skin, hair,endurance or energy that I had when I had my first kids. 

Back in the days when I was a young Mommy  people always said...
..."you look too young to have a kid"  - then
..."you look too young to have two kids" - then
..."you look too young to have three kids" - then
..."you look too young to have four kids" - then
..."you look too young to have five kids."

Seven years later, when  I had Rebekah at 38, I never heard that "too young" comment again.  I especially didn't hear it after I began struggling with thyroid cancer.

In fact, I was often mistaken as the Gramma, and my older daughter, Jana, was the assumed mother.

But, then it all changed for me.  Jana married young and began her family, so I began hearing
..."you look too young to have a grandkid" - then
..."you look too young to have two grandkids. "

After Jana delivers baby number three this June, I hope to hear
..."you look too young to have three grandkids."

Somehow, I have the feeling that my grandkids, just like my little Rebekah, will not see the wrinkles and gray hair.

They will think I'm beautiful.

And I truly think Antique Mommy is right,

there are no ugly mommies

because there are no ugly babies.

Parenthood is  a beautiful cyle when love is blind, and blind love is good.

The Tale of Three Hammers

Some things never change.

This is how my Dad's tool bench has basically always looked.

The vise is the same. 

The pegboard is the same.

The grinder is the same.

Every house we've lived in,

whether Dad's workbench was in the basement

or out in the garage,

it's looked like this.

These green containers with Dad's familiar handwriting

have sorted his smaller items for years.

But, some things do change.

Look at this row of screwdrivers.

Notice anything unusual?

I'm not talking about the one that's leaning forward,

if that bothers you, you might be slightly OCD.

Think harder.

Every screwdriver is right where it should be.

There isn't one in the junk drawer,

one in the toybox,

one under the car,

and one in the garden.

They're all there.

They're all there in a nice, tidy row,

just waiting patiently to be used.

As a kid I could never find a hammer.

(I guess Dad couldn't either.)

There would be one in every fort the boys were making,

(I have three brothers)

there might be one in the driveway if we were smashing rocks or marbles,

there might be one at the neighbor boy's house,

if he'd lost his Dad's hammers and needed to borrow one of ours,

and there might be one in the boys' bedrooms because they were

"fixing" things or "making" things.

Count them.

Three hammers.

They're all there.

For years my Dad tried to keep his tools from wandering off.

He'd try to lecture the boys on responsibility.

He'd try that piece we all know about money not growing on trees.

He tried to instill the desire for orderliness,

showing them how great it was to go to the workbench

and actually find the tool you were looking for.

Nothing worked for many years.

But, I don't remember my Dad

ever

forbidding the boys from using his tools.

He just endured.

Maybe he knew that someday the boys would leave

and his tools would look like they do now.

Maybe he even dreamed about the day

when he would go to get a hammer

and he would have three to choose from.

But, I don't know if my dad ever dreamed about

 the amazing sons he would raise.

My brothers can build or fix anything.

Seriously.

And, they all buy a lot of tools and keep them in order.

In fact, my Dad's been known to borrow tools from his sons,

as they became more skilled and began buying bigger and better tools.

My Dad's workbench gives me hope.

Someday, my house will be clean.

My scissors will be where I put them.

My pens will be in the pen jar.

My burners will be clean.

My sewing machine will be threaded.

My glue sticks will have glue in them.

My tape will be in the drawer.

My cupboards will be clean.

My craft cupboard will be neatly organized.

My paints will not be open and dried out.

Until then,

I need to endure.

I need to remind myself that my "stuff"

is being used to train them for their futures.

And someday, by the grace of God,

I'll be sitting back,

marveling at the amazing children I have.

Then, I will take all 20 pairs of scissors,

and hang them on pegboard.

Do Parents Know Best?

In September, TodayMoms had a parenting expert on their show.  Her premise was that Parents Do Not Know Best when it comes to raising their children.

From the article, "Clinical psychologist Belisa Vranich sat down with Ann Curry and author and comedian Finesse Mitchell this morning to discuss the question and offered an unconventional opinion: Vranich asserted that parents aren't always the best equipped to advise the kids effectively."


The interactive poll of viewers found that 64% of them agree with Vranich's theory that parents do not always know best.



 

I guess times have changed from when Father Knows Best.

For those of us that are devoted moms, who eat, breathe and (rarely) sleep our children, how we can be better moms, how we can instruct our children better, love them more deeply, guide them more spiritually,

them's fighting words. 

Watch the video clip first.



I checked the "professionals" criteria online.  She's well educated,  but lives with her boyfriend and their dogs.  We all thought we knew a lot about parenting until we actually became parents. The comedian, who loves and admires his parents, actually gave better advice.


Is she serious that coaches and peers may know children better and give better advice?   Non-homeschooled kids may spend more time  with their peers, but that doesn't mean their advice is going to be sound.  She also has obviously never had a child in a sport.  My kids may spend hours with their coaches, but the coaches don't know much more than my kids' name, jersey number, the position they play and random trivial details.  Not a whole lot of influence happening while my son is guarding second base and the coach is in the baseline.

Being together for hours without talking intimately, cannot even begin to weigh against those amazing 10-15 minute conversations we may have with a child, where hearts are open, advice, comfort or encouragement is accepted and the relationship is bonded.

The clip they used, from a sitcom, I guess, to prove their point was ridiculous.  Who asks kids to blindly  obey all spoken words, especially to the point of endangering lives?  Get real!  Since our job is preparing them to live on their own, we  know we are working ourselves out a job, we understand that letting them make decisions is a huge part of their lives.

I agree that parents need advice sometimes and not all parents in the US are doing a great job. But for me, advice has to come from someone who has survived the teenage years and really has something for me to go on, versus someone who just has only studied what it's like to parent. 

I know her advice would change if she actually had teenage offspring in her life, challenging and breaking rules, not studying or studying too much, dating losers or losing the nice guy,  trying to make friends, crying over a broken heart or an empty heart, agonizing over career  and marriage decisions, suffering loneliness, zits, car accidents, speeding tickets, lying, confiding, and all the other real life situations we parents face.
She also will never know the joy of a heart to heart conversations when a child trusts you enough to confide their struggles, joys and trials.  She will never know the feeling when a child rebels, but later admits you were right and you kept them from a worse path. She'll never know the amount of love a parent can have for a child, that will drive them to say NO when they should say NO, even when they want to say YES. She'll never know the joy of watching a child succeed in life, because they made great decisions, based on your advice.  She'll never know  the joy and love of parenting  that outweighs all the trials.

She'll never know - but I am sure she can read about it.

And while she's reading about parenting, I'm going to prepare a video on how to best take care of dogs.  I've never owned one, I don't even really like them, but I'm pretty sure that I can come up with a few pointers for her because I am emphatic that a Dog Owner Doesn't Know Best when it comes to their dogs. 

So, I'm gunna' go to the library, check out a few books, become an expert and make a video.

Free dog advice, coming soon.