It Takes a Village

There is a famous parenting phrase that we have all heard at one time or another; "it takes a village to raise a child." While that was true for my parents' generation, when parents and the community looked out for and sometimes disciplined children, in today's culture most parents are not thrilled when someone corrects their child. Even as a teacher, I had many "not my child" conversations with parents and received a phone call with a screaming mother on the other end wanting to know why I disciplined her son because he kicked another child in my class. (Her theory was that he has a right to stand up for himself though physical means.) Gone are the days when children were raised in a similar way - and there are positives and negatives to that, which is another blog post all on its own. But recently, I thought about the "it takes a village" phrase and wondered if maybe we could change the ending to "to help a mama."

This week, we received the last of our charitable meals from loving women who wanted to bless my family. For the past two months, women from my MOPs group have been bringing meals, twice a week, to my home. These meals were made with love and included the main dish, fruit/veggies and dessert. They also had enough food for us to stretch the love to two meals. Many of these women not only brought over these delicious meals to our house, they also stayed and chatted with my make-up free, yoga-pants self to see how I was doing and if I needed anything. Some of these women also brought sweet gifts for my Sadie Jane and also for her big brother Zachary. One friend brought over a cooler with six casseroles inside for us to freeze and pull out when we needed a meal. Each week, these women blessed our family in a simple, yet profound way. They not only fed our bellies, but our hearts as well.

After Zachary was born, we were still new to Cincinnati. I knew a few people from the school where I worked and a couple of our neighbors and of course Troy's coworkers, but that was it. We had just decided that Montgomery Community Church would be our home church, but we had only been attending for a month or two so we weren't connected to anyone there yet. After our family left and Troy went back to work, I felt very alone. I still had my friends in Minnesota that I called and we would make trips back to Chicago to visit family, but my only real support was Troy. 

Parenting didn't meet the expectations that I had set. I had no idea how hard and how lonely it could be. I can remember thinking when Zachary was four months old, that I might be able to do this - which really meant for four months, while I was head over heals in love with my son, I was unhappy. I joined MOPs at my church the September after Zachary turned one. I had a lot of prompting from Troy due to the fact that my introverted self felt apprehensive about entering into a group where I knew not a soul. I promised myself that I was not going to pour myself out to these women just yet. They were going to have to earn my trust. I was just going to check things out and enjoy the childcare. Maybe go to the bathroom without a toddler pulling all the toilet paper off the roll. However, the Holy Spirit had another idea in mind. One that I wouldn't have chosen. One that made me vulnerable.

After mingling during brunch, introductions and a short video, we discussed a few questions about our dreams and before I knew it, the words that had been brewing in my gut came running up my throat and spilling out of my mouth. I knew this was not my doing. My plan was to keep them bottled up inside so that these women would think I actually knew what I was doing; that I had it together. I started sharing with my group about how I love my son, but I had a hard time finding real joy in my role as a mother and how guilty that made me feel. I told them that I was scared because now I was pregnant again and I didn't know how I was going to find joy with two children if I can't find it with one. I told them that I felt ashamed for even thinking this because I have two healthy children and some people can't even have one. Tears streamed down my face as I realized in horror that yes, I had just spoken all these things out loud to women I didn't even know. I wanted to run out of the room but my knees were shaking.

I took a breath, blinked back the tears that had not yet escaped and looked up at these women who would spend the next nine months uplifting me - and each other - and the looks on their faces showed nothing of judgement, but of empathy. One by one, they each offered me their words of wisdom and comfort. Some offered advice that worked for them, others agreed to having similar feelings. I realized that this group was much more powerful than I thought. This was my village. 

That morning was a turning point in my role as a parent. We were not created to be alone. The Good Book says that right in the beginning, Genesis 2:18 says, "The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."" I was trying to parent without any suitable helpers. Of course, I had Troy who is an amazing husband, father and friend, but I think moms need other moms too. 

Since September, my cup has overflowed. Obviously, I have days that are hard; where I am not a good parent or spouse, but I also have friends who come alongside of me and pick me up. I have found real joy in my role as a parent because I have found my village.

If you are struggling, I encourage you to find your village. If you live in the Cincinnati area, please come and check out Montgomery Community Church. If you are a mother of a child who is not yet in kindergarten, join a MOPs group. Find your people, because I am now convinced that it takes a village to help a mama.

Happy Mamas have a village behind them.

Grace

I have a wet spot on my jeans that is either breast milk, spit up or pee. I just folded a clean shirt that has a stain on the stomach from when my toddler wiped his clementine juice on me and the acid bleached the color. The top of the same shirt has a barbacoa juice stain from when I tried to eat a taco while nursing my infant. (That stain was worth it.) I have worn my hair in a messy bun for I don't even know how many days and I am drinking another cup of coffee because my morning caffeine and adrenaline rush has left me wondering how I am going to do this again after the best time of the day - Nap Time.

My babies, discussing who will have a melt down first.

Everyone has heard the phrase that being a parent is hard work, but nobody really knows what "hard" means until those little ones belong to you. My son, Zachary will be two the end of May but he started his terrible twos about two weeks before my daughter Sadie was born in the beginning of March. That's right, I have two children under the age of two years. The past six weeks, all I have been able to think about is how I wish I knew how easy I really had it when I was only parenting one child; and how I can win an all expense paid trip to a Sandals Resort. When Troy is home, we can each take a kid but while my husband is vacationing (this is his term for working), I am struggling with a zone defense with two little ones who I swear are working together to ensure that I never eat, go to the bathroom or shower.

Being a parent is something that I am certain is a purpose for my life. I take this job very seriously because Troy and I are raising Zachary and Sadie to love the Lord and do amazing things for Him when they grow up. However, being that this is such an important job, the stakes are higher so the fails can feel stronger. With Sadie being my second, I wanted to try some things differently this time around. One of them being that I wanted her to sleep in her own room sooner than we did with Zachary. We had been having her sleep in a Rock and Play which is great because it feels like a hug and is more comforting to infants as opposed to the straight and flat crib. The first night I tried to get her to sleep in her crib was an epic fail. She and I were up until 4 am, battling this out. I would lay her down, trudge back to my room and the moment I laid down, she would start crying again. I can remember standing at her changing table, bawling and hearing a loud voice telling me that I was a failure. I couldn't even get my baby to sleep in a bed that was made for babies. FAIL. FAIL. FAIL. With tears streaming down my face, I wondered how I would be able to tackle bigger issues if I can't even get Sadie to sleep in her bed. Then, I heard a softer, gentler voice that somehow overlapped the obtrusive negative one and I heard, "Pam, you're tired and you need rest. Put Sadie back in the Rock and Play tonight and try again tomorrow. Give yourself some grace."

Grace.

How many of us need to be reminded to give ourselves some grace? I need this reminder daily, if not every hour. We are not meant to have all the answers and we are going to screw up on a daily basis, but we have a parent who is the Ultimate Father and He is going to help us get through our troubles so there is no need to worry about whether or not I can get Sadie to sleep in her crib or anything else for that matter. Worrying is counterproductive and a waste of time. Matthew 6:26-27 says, "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable then they? Who of you can add a single hour to his life by worrying?" Did you read that right? You are valuable in the Lord's eyes. Valuable. He is going to take care of us because He loves us.

A few nights after I was reminded to give myself grace, I found myself at Sadie's crib again. I had just spent the whole day dealing with a toddler who throws a hissy fit if I give him the red spoon instead of the green one. I had snapped, sassed and even spanked Zachary that day. I cried when my kids cried and I was a hot mess, on the inside and out. I didn't know how I was going to make it through the week, let alone the rest of their lives. As I held my sleeping daughter in my arms and listened to her rhythmic breathing, I offered up a prayer as honest and raw as I was at that moment. I simply told the Lord that I understood that my purpose was to raise these babies and that I didn't expect Him to make my days easier. I know the Lord isn't a genie; if He made things easy, then Jesus wouldn't have had to die on the cross. He does things because we are supposed to learn from our experiences or come along others with an empathetic point of view having lived them. But I was screwing things up. I was not being a good parent, spouse, or person and I did not want to do life this way. I simply asked that He equip me for this role. I needed more patience, more love and more wisdom. 

The next day looked exactly like the one previous. Zachary threw himself on the floor because I didn't understand that he wanted to watch Dinosaur Train and not Sesame Street. Sadie had a blow out and vomited at the same time, going through her second outfit of the day. Troy came home from work late and I smelled like rotten breast milk and body odor, but the day felt different. I felt different. I knew the Lord had answered my prayers. I felt him equipping me for my role. I was able to speak to Zachary with more patience. I was empathetic to Sadie's cries. I was grateful for a husband who provides so well for our family.

I am not saying that I am no longer a hot mess. For example, today was a hard day. I had to write this blog in stages because Zachary decided that he only wanted to take an hour nap today. As I write this, I have hunkered down in our den and closed the doors to hide away and do something grown up and for myself for the first time in days. My days aren't easier and I don't always feel strong enough to get through the day without tears, but I know that the Lord is working within me. My grandpa always wrote Bible verses on index cards to study. One of my favorite cards has the following verse, Isaiah 41:10 "Fear not for I am with you; be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with the righthand of my righteousness." Good grief, thank goodness for that! Because I need strength and I need help. Can I get an Amen?!

So, if there are any mamas out there who are crying in the middle of the night - or heck, in the middle of the day - and wonder how you will survive, take heart. You are not alone. God comforts us with strength by adding to our resources. His way is not to widdle down the problem but to build up the ability to cope with it. Basically, He has your back. Ask Him to equip you for your role as a parent. He loves you and will help you. 

Just remember to give yourself some grace.