The Midwest truly is a miraculous land where everything simply grows. After just one afternoon of 40-degree temperatures, I thought I spied a few tiny buds already beginning to peak into the treetops and the grass definitely seemed greener. However, even as we catch a glimpse of Spring, I still love to see the sun twinkle off the last of the Winter’s snow.
Our baby girl is growing up. Teeth are coming in and she’s starting to take solid foods. She’s just discovered how to crawl, albeit a strange one-legged crawl that makes her look like a hermit crab. She can now pull herself to standing and it won’t be long before she figures out how to toddle around on two legs. These are all very big changes for a very little person and they have taken a toll on her nap routine. After months of long easy naps in the crib our daughter has hit yet another round of dreaded sleep regression. During the day she sleeps more on me than she does anywhere else at the moment. I was just beginning to get the hang of household chores and meal prep in those quiet hours when she enjoyed her afternoon siesta but we have once again leveled up.
Although her freshly difficult naps come with a brand new set of inconveniences, I can’t honestly say that I’m terribly upset about it. I don’t always get to the dirty dishes in the sink or the clutter on the coffee table and my arms occasionally start tingling from holding her for long stretches at a time. However, truth be told, I’m loving every minute of it. I am drinking up each and every hour that passes with her snuggled against my chest. My day-to-day is far from productive but amid all of her new growing pains she became downright cuddly. As the song goes, “let them be little.” One day, not so far from now, she won’t need mommy’s shoulder to fall asleep on. I can’t wait to chase her through all of the walking and talking still to come but for now I am savoring the blessing that is sleep regression.
The famous Midwestern wind can always bring a dash of patriotism to a chilly winter stroll as was the case on this blessed, clear afternoon.
This seems to be an unpopular opinion in society though happily is gaining traction. I recently listened to an episode of Pints with Aquinas where Matt Fradd interviewed Nick Freitas. At one point in the conversation Nick made the observation that we have a tendency to ‘bubble wrap’ the world for every veteran we meet because we incorrectly assume they have all experienced trauma. I believe that we’ve done the same thing to motherhood in a way.
For one thing, I think we put far too much emphasis on postpartum depression. When a woman becomes pregnant she can hardly turn around without hearing assurances that it’s okay if she doesn’t feel that instant connection when baby is born. Of course, postpartum depression is real and it by no means makes you a bad mother. I simply believe this is the exception and not the rule. We have turned pregnancy and childbirth into a medical condition bordering on a disorder when, in the past, it was always a beautiful and natural human process. Despite the exhausted struggling mothers we see on TV, I think most women are blessed as I was, with the overwhelming joy of motherhood upon giving birth.
This leads to my second objection to the traumatic motherhood mentality. Although your body, your schedule and your life will never be the same after pregnancy and childbirth, these changes are generally for the better in my opinion. At no point have I found myself itching for an excuse to get away from my daughter. If anything, I adore her too much, sometimes to the exclusion of other important things. People are so eager to lend a hand with babysitting or simply by holding baby so mommy can have a break. While this is greatly appreciated and occasionally necessary, it’s never really been the kind of help I wanted. In truth, I was often far happier in the early days to accept a home cooked meal from a friend while I got to simply become acquainted with this beautiful new human God gave us. To this day I still don’t enjoy leaving baby girl with others, even trusted family members, when my husband and I go out. Our daughter is not someone I want a break from.
My life did not end when she came into it. Quite the opposite. Likewise, I have never resented my stretch marks. Perhaps that does put me in a minority, but I look like a mom and it’s a fact that I am immensely proud of. My body now bears visible signs of the sanctifying work I have given my life to. My husband isn’t less attracted to me because my tummy has a few lines on it. I am still perfectly able to dress neatly and attractively, never having felt the need to resign myself to lumpy mom jeans. In short, I am not a victim of motherhood. I am not a slave to my baby. This is no more or less that the work that I signed up for, the work I believe God made me for. I am absolutely overjoyed to fulfill that purpose, the vocation of marriage and all it entails including the responsibilities of motherhood.
Even while we wait for Spring to leak color back into the world there is still beauty to be found in God’s frozen creation. Tiny miracles are always underfoot.
Have you ever been out to eat and seen an infant propped in front of an ipad while the adults chat, blank eyes reflecting the blue light of the screen, mouth agape, totally dead to the world, their trance rendering them completely mute and ignorable? It’s a scene which is far too normal in society today and one that breaks my heart every time. While I’m certainly not the crunchiest of mothers, my husband and I have begun to embrace some old school parenting with our daughter. I don’t make my own clothes (with the exception of some very minor dabblings with knitting) and I haven’t yet hit my canning phase apart from the occasional daydream.
At this point my husband and I are simply committed to limiting technology for our baby girl. For instance, we don’t let her play with our phones which means we also try to be off of them as much as possible while we’re around her. She takes interest in whatever mommy and daddy are holding so we are trying not to have them in hand too often. Perhaps this is unnecessarily strict but when my husband and I first began talking about starting a family we agreed that we did not want a nanny. That includes the screen nanny. We don’t believe that there is ever a scenario in which kids need to be quiet at all costs. Certainly they need to learn to behave in public but that doesn’t mean they need to stop being their naturally active, playful, chatterbox selves. Baby babble or even the occasional tantrum may be off putting to other business patrons when out around town. In my opinion however, this is still no justification for shutting them up with a screen.
In addition to minimal screen time we are also being very intentional about the toys our daughter is surrounded by, limiting the electronic gadgets in favor of simple mechanical toys. We hope this will help to encourage good, old-fashioned, imaginative play. Too often I think kids simply learn how to punch buttons and engage in perpetual ‘Simon Says’ with an endless stream of flashing, beeping gizmos. I believe kids should instead discover how to make their own fun. In this spirit, we also do daily story time and get outside whenever possible to take full advantage of the ever entertaining great outdoors. I know that my husband and I have been blessed with a very good and happy baby and many parents are not so lucky. These goals may seem impossible or at least ambitious but my husband and I are both immensely grateful to our own parents for filling our childhoods with knee-scuffing adventures. We pray we can impart the same to our children.
Amid the grey Midwestern winter, baby girl and I take every opportunity to soak up the sunshine and God’s blessings, after cozying up in our favorite handknits of course.
We have officially been back in ordinary time for a number of weeks. The Christmas season has come and gone and with it the mountain of sugary treats on our kitchen table. The hubby and I thoroughly enjoyed celebrating the nativity of Christ with an assortment of cookies, chocolates and other holiday goodies.
However, as we move through the liturgical calendar our hearts and belts are happy to check our sugar intake. We hope this will aid us in maintaining healthy habits as well as guide us to a deeper understanding of Christ through intentional and liturgical living. Therefore, during ordinary time we have resolved to live ordinarily, forgoing desserts and sweets except for feast days or special occasions with friends or family. This also means no afternoon hot cocoa for wifey on chilly winter days. I instead warm myself with a steaming cup of tea in a delightfully hobbit-like fashion. I’m traditionally a coffee drinker and while this is no replacement for that welcome morning beverage I’ve come to look forward to afternoon tea time.
My husband and I have already found our sugar cravings greatly diminished just in these first weeks. Undoubtedly we will be tempted at times to bend our new healthy habits, particularly as we look toward Lent when we will be instituting additional offerings. However, I’m happy to report that afternoon tea has become a welcome treat in its own right.
Blessed in the Midwest 