Wherein I (Mostly) Agree with the Mainstream Mags

During my first couple of years of mommyhood, I eagerly read every issue of every mainstream parenting magazine out there.  I nodded along with each bland, middle of the road article.  After a few months, though, they all began to sound like reruns of the same cheesy infomercial:

Breastfeeding:  Breast is Best!  For a limited time only! (6 months.  1 year, max.)  Supplies are limited! 
(You probably won't make enough, anyway, or at the very least will want to get away some.  You also need to add rice cereal by 4-6 months.)  Go hands free!  (Make sure someone else feeds the baby once in awhile, so that they can bond, too.)

Sleep:  Are you tired of your baby sleeping like a...baby?  Then you need to try our sleep training program!  Just pay three easy installments of CIO, and you will get more sleep, guaranteed! (After all, your baby doesn't really need to nurse during the night after [insert arbitrary time period] and is probably just doing it out of habit.  Of course, it is hard to listen to them cry--we aren't heartless--but we know that it is being done For Their Own Good.)  And our approach is gentler on the stomach! (We don't advocate leaving them in their vomit.  Just let them cry in gradually increasing intervals).

Punishment:  Try our diet-consequences!  Our punishment-lite has all of the flavor, none of the guilt!  Just combine one minute of time out per year of age, add a sticker chart and several "Good jobs!", apply consistently, and you will see results!  (For maximum results, add at least one meaningless choice per day--aka blue shirt vs red shirt--so that your child has the illusion of control.  Those attitudes will melt right off!)

I won't even get into the bimonthly reprint of the same article telling us that it has been thoroughly proven that the mercury in vaccines does *not* cause autism, but it is such a classic that it hasn't changed since 2004. 

But, snark aside, there is one topic that I basically agree with them on.  Surprised?  Me, too.  I won't try to read too much into that.  But with one major caveat, I agree with them on favoritism.

We all know that playing favorites hurts.  But what about when it is your child, not the parent, who plays favorites?  Despite our best efforts not to let it get under our skin, it can still sting.  In fact, one of the preferred arguments in favor of formula-feeding is that the baby will be too attached to the mom (literally) and that dad will get left out.

I've talked with a lot of moms who mention that in those first several months after becoming a parent, their husbands do feel a little left out of the loop.  The mom and baby are bonding and so focused on each other that they don't seem to need anyone else.   Sometimes the dads are hesitant to try or take any displeasure by the baby personally, and just default to letting mom care for the baby.  And some moms reinforce the dad's feelings of inadequacy through hovering, "helping", or correcting.

Our oldest daughter has always been extremely close to me.  And I suspect there were times when her toddler cries of, "Mami do it!" hurt just a bit.  It would have been easy to blame breastfeeding.  Instead, we gave them more time together and more ways to connect.

With each new child, one of my favorite things has been to watch the increased closeness that the toddlers develop with their dad.   While I try to reassure them a lot, and tandem nursing provides plenty of mami-time, they always wind up doing a lot more with Daddy. Watching him snuggle them to sleep, calm tantrums with play, and do fun things with them provides much needed peace to all of us.

I don't know if part of it is simply his increased comfort level with babies, or if it is simply a personality thing, or what, but the last two have showed a distinct preference for Daddy, even as infants.  Our seven month old squeals with delight as soon as he walks into the room and immediately raises her hands and calls, "Dadee! Dadadee!"  If he waits for more than a split second, her indignant squawk of protest makes it clear that she is outraged by the slight.  As he cuddles her, her face beams satisfaction.

When I have to work or just want to meet a friend for coffee or do some solo shopping, I am comfortable knowing that they are with him.  Does he do things differently than I would?  Sure.  That isn't a bad thing, though.  In fact, I believe that they benefit from seeing how different people handle things differently.  Flexibility is important for everyone.  There have certainly been times when a toddler told us coldly that "Daddy/Mami doesn't do it that way!" but we all learn more from that.  Sometimes the kids adjust, sometimes we do.  Either way, it is good.

So, my advice to parents going through a distinct stage of preference on the part of the child pretty much boils down to what "they" would say:  Don't take it personally.  This too shall pass.  Give both parents the opportunity to parent without you parenting the other parent.

My one deviation is that I do not think that the other parent must feed with a bottle or miss out on bonding.  Even with my marathon-nurslings, there are plenty of moments in the day for the other parent to step in and have close times with the baby.  (My personal opinion was that if one parent is handling all the input, the other can be responsible for all the out-put.  While my husband has definitely done his share of diaper duty, he isn't quite 100% behind that one, but as I said, flexibility is good.)

If this were a magazine article, I would try to tie it all up with a cute bow.  I won't, though, because I know it isn't always that easy.  I have the best possible scenario--a wonderful husband who is devoted to his kids and fully trustworthy.  He wants to be with them, and they want to be with him.  Even so, each of the kidlets has expressed favoritism at one point or another.  It isn't a competition, though, and we continue to discover in more ways that we are all on the same team.  I still need to work on a catchy commercial slogan, though.

Love in the Time of...

Image by Gúnna on Flickr

Not cholera, thank God.  Just gastroenteritis.  For some reason (I suspect vaccines, but it may not be related at all), our seven year old is knocked out by every tummy bug that comes our way.  The rest of us can bounce back quickly, but it takes her forever to get over it.  This last one hit her especially hard.  Hard enough that I took her in to the after hours clinic yesterday, and was grateful for the meds that they gave us, and I am much more the wait-it-out and don't-medicate-unless-you-have-to kind.

In our life many years ago BC (Before Children), my husband and I would enjoy romantic weekends.  We might take a little trip or just stay home, but regardless, it would be a time of leisurely passion and enjoyment together.  It might involve a special meal or flowers or chocolates or special gifts.  One year he wrote the most beautiful love letter, and typed it out into the shape of a heart!  My Beloved has always been incredibly romantic.  He is also creative.  This weekend was considerably different from the BC ones, but nonetheless, he made it romantic.  Some highlights:

* Getting up at 3AM as our daughter was vomiting.  Knowing that she was pretty dehydrated by this point, I kept her awake so that I could have her drink Pedialyte every few minutes.  The baby's radar went off as soon as I got up, so Carlos comforted her while I took care of Ariana.  Then, instead of going back to bed, he stayed up with us and watched movies on Netflix together.  Drinking coffee in the dark at around 4:30 AM and snuggling close together while taking care of a sick kidlet is romantic if you want it to be.

* Taking care of phone-related chores that I have been letting go.  I mentioned in my phonophobe post that I really dislike talking on the phone.  Somehow, some creep got ahold of my phone number and has been spamming me with porn.  Ick, ick, ick.  I've called several times, and the phone company has been very kind, and even offered a blocker program for free.  Except it didn't work.  I got another pic from the blocked number a couple days ago, but was too busy taking care of the kidlets to bother with anything.  Yesterday he spent a long time with customer service, but was able to get things taken care of once and for all.

* Adjusting our TV service.  We cut back several months ago to the most limited package available to save money, but we also lost nearly all of our favorite channels.  He negotiated with them yesterday and was able to get all of the favorite channels back (I can now watch Food Network and Top Chef again, and Elena can watch her beloved Yo Gabba Gabba) for less than we were paying for the basic package!

* Snuggling together and watching an episode of Throwdown with Bobby Flay, thanks to the aforementioned negotiation.  Laughing together at how, regardless of whether he is making brownies, ice cream, moussaka, waffles or anything else, Bobby adds chiles.  (As chile-lovers ourselves, we can sympathize).

* The way he noticed how our two-year-old has been feeling left out and displaced with all the attention required by the other kidlets recently.  He has gone out of his way to tenderly and patiently fill her love cup, making sure to include her and let her know she is special to us, too.  Yeah guys, tenderness is as sexy as it gets.

* Grabbing a delicious dinner to go, and going for a walk in the shopping center while they fixed for us.  The perfect opportunity to have our arms around each other, to walk holding hands and talk about plans for the future and yet still not be away from the sick little ones for long.

* Fixing me his famous banana smoothie for breakfast.

* Finding ways to make me laugh, even when I am loopy from lack of sleep, worried about our sweeties and in desperate need of a shower.

* Taking care of biohazardous laundry without being asked.  I don't blame people for not reading my mind, but I sure appreciate it when they do!

* Taking advantage of every opportunity to hold my hand and give me that look.

Don't get me wrong--I loved all the special times before we had kids.   They were very nice.  But the energy and creativity to make me feel in love in the time of gastroenteritis?  That is amazing.  He is amazing.  <3

Deconstructing the United Front

Photo by JRGCreations on Flickr

In my post on consistency, I mentioned that I also hold rather heretical views on the tenet of "the united front".  Like consistency, it is assumed to be common sense and rarely controversial.  I have some strong disagreements with the whole concept, though.

First, the whole point is, as Alfie Kohn points out, a united front against the child.  It is part of the whole adversarial mind set that pits the parents against the children in war.  The theory goes that if the child senses any weakness, he will attack you at your most vulnerable level of disagreement, so you are bound to an alliance with your partner in order to create a show of strength.   As I have stated before, our family is on the same team.  We aren't at war with our kids, and we are not afraid  of evil motives on their part.

Secondly, it is inauthentic.  The united front supposes that you and your partner actually disagree to some extent, but are backing each other up from a sense of obligation and/or fear.  Do I really want to teach my children to ignore their own conscience and go along with others to prove their relationship?  Is that the model of conflict resolution that I want them to follow?

If you are punishing your children, then it might seem more fair to be consistent.  However, kids are smart and adaptable.  Our kidlets know that Dad lets them watch some shows on TV that I wouldn't, and that I have a higher tolerance for messes than he does.  That hasn't caused any problems for us.  Whichever parent is more actively taking care of them at that moment decides the boundaries.

Once you move past the united front, there is an entirely different view of problem-solving and collaboration that opens up.  You are forced to confront your true needs and reasons behind a direction.  When those are clear, then you work together as a united front--parents and children--against the problem, with a large opening to see out and view fresh solutions.

What if one partner refuses to do that?  Then you learn how to have healthy boundaries and grow from that point.  If the parents' relationship is so fragile that disagreement will cause damage, then I suspect the damage is already done.  Clinging to a facade won't help either of you, and won't model a healthy relationship for your children.  Get counseling--alone, if your partner refuses--and learn how to be healthy yourself, and see how your relationship can become healthy from there.

The goal is a healthy family where disagreement is a springboard to finding solutions, not where it is feared as hurtful for anyone.  Learning how to navigate conflict and find respectful ways to disagree and work through the issues is an incredibly important life skill.  It must be acquired through practice.  Tear down any false united front that causes you to be inauthentic and build one together with the whole family where every member is united in the endeavor to meet each person's needs.

Photo by recursion_see_recursion on Flickr

Gifts my father gave me

Photo by stevendepolo on Flickr

I've never been good at looking at babies and pronouncing who they resemble with specific features. "Oh, she's got Grandma's nose and Uncle Herbert's ears!" type of thing. But I can look at all sorts of little things in my daily life and mindset and trace them back to my parents (and occasionally grandparents). I was chatting on the phone with my dad on Sunday and we laughed together over some traits that we have in common. Here are a few specific legacies from my dad:

1. Worship music. Possibly my earliest memory is standing in my crib listening to the old 1970s Maranatha! Praise series in Spanish. The first time I visited my dad after the divorce I noticed that there was beautiful worship music playing softly as we went to sleep. For the first time in quite awhile I feel asleep easily and had no nightmares. He gave me a cassette player and a copy of the tape that I nearly wore out. When they remarried, even in times when we were living off ramen noodles and hotdogs, there was always money available for a new worship tape, and our souls feasted.

2. Praying in the moment. Something dad had learned from his dad and grandpastor (his dad's pastor) was that you never just promise someone you'll pray. You do it right then. It doesn't sound like a big deal, but I've seen special things happen when you pray together right then.

3. An ear for languages. One of my dad's noteworthy abilities (shared with his sister) is quick and thorough linguistic adaptation. He perfectly imitates the accent of the people around him. Not only does his pronunciation change, but also his diction in general, including grammar and vocabulary. He is one of those people who will always sound like the people where he lives. While not as good as he is, I think that part of my ability in languages comes from him.  Also, while I am not nationalistic, believing that my citizenship is in Heaven, he and I share a love for my birth country.  There is a little part in both of us that isn't quite at home unless we are in Mexico.

4. Taking children seriously. One of the greatest things my dad did was take my opinions and input seriously as a child. I can never recall being dismissed because of my age. He listened to whatever I had to say and responded as if I were an adult. That is another trait that I saw in *his* father, too. It is an amazing gift to feel that your thoughts count.

5. Communion and optimistic eschatology. There are some areas where my theological beliefs may have rolled all the way into another orchard, but much of my basic apple remains close to his tree. In particular, I share his views on communion. I feel that something is lacking in any service where it is not a part. I still am a little dismayed by Protestant churches who have it as a rare event.

Regarding eschatology, I remember some churches with the "just a few more weary days and then" mentality. Did you ever see the old Christian horror movies like "A Thief in the Night"? Even as a kid I would have considered them great fodder for MST3K. My dad never viewed the church as a pitiful, defeated "cowering under the covers till we can get Raptured out of here" body. She is the glorious Bride! He imparted the security that we are reigning with Christ and that there is always hope for our future.

There are lots of other things for future posts. These were just a few of the first that came to mind. And don't worry--I wont neglect my mom's contributions :) My parents would be the first to say that none of us are perfect and they would do many things differently. But I am deeply grateful for the heritage they have given me, the confidence I have in their love, and the spiritual treasure they have imparted. If my kids grow up with the riches that my mom and dad have given me, I will consider myself a good parent.

Courtship vs Dating, pt. 4--Balanced or Lukewarm?

In the previous three posts, I outlined my own experiences. In this one, I am considering what I want to teach my children. Frankly, I am a bit wishy-washy. Bill Gothard would have a nice, neat explanation of how my standards are lukewarm, complete with a nifty little alien drawing. While I am grateful for much of what I was taught, I am not sure what I want to pass on to my kidlets.

* The whole idea of waiting for a relationship that has the probable outcome of marriage. Eh, maybe. I definitely want my kids to be honest always, with themselves, with the person they are dating and with God. I do want them to be careful with their own hearts and with the hearts of others. At the same time, I think that there are valuable things to learn in all relationships, and that the whole notion of courtship can result in the exact same pressures and pain that happen in any dating relationship. There may actually be great value in a relationship where there is more freedom for them to look at things objectively and walk away without feeling that they are breaking a commitment.

* Physical involvement. My answer is pretty much the same as to the previous part. I am all for honesty and restraint. I believe that the Bible does reserve sex as God's amazing wedding present. I've also known people who didn't even kiss until their wedding. That is hard for me to wrap my mind around. I pretty much come down to a lot of the gray areas being between the individuals and God. And really, temptation levels vary so much. There were times when I could enjoy making out tremendously but not feel tempted to take it any further. Other times, just being in the same room with Carlos required self-control.

* The Father and The One. You can probably guess where I stand on this. I've already mentioned my views on patriarchy. I think that family involvement is great. It helps with the whole honesty and accountability aspect, and I think that the opinion of one's family is important. However, I also believe that God speaks directly to the individual couple. Families can have a skewed and unobjective opinion here, just like with any other issue. As for the whole concept of The One, I am not so sure. I certainly can't imagine being married to anyone else other than Carlos. However, I do think that successful marriages can be built with more than one potential person.

* What this means in concrete terms. I don't know. I don't know what parameters I would set with our children exactly, as far as age or type of dating or whatever. I imagine that it will be an ongoing discussion in many ways. I'm glad that I have a little time to talk and pray and think about it. Those of you who have noticed how many soap boxes I tend to mount in parenting, here is your chance! Influence me! ;)

Courtship vs Dating, pt 3

Growing up as a Gothardite really tweaks your perception in many areas. Carlos and I had spent four years seeking God about our relationship, we were both in our mid-twenties, financially stable, etc. To most people, it would have been a no-brainer that if we wanted to get married, we should. However, my dad's disapproval was a very big deal.

Some people wondered if it was a racial thing. That always surprised me. Although Carlos will always have a much deeper tan than I will ever get, that was never a blip on the radar at all. In fact, my dad was my role model for approaching racial issues. I never once saw or heard any form of racism, either subtle or overt from him. Not only that, he would bring to our attention things that many people never notice if they are not the target. If someone made a negative comment using racial descriptors, like, "I was waiting for that parking space and then that Black woman took it from me!" he'd question it (after all, who would say, ""I was waiting for that parking space and then that tall woman took it from me!"?). A couple of times when we were little, my sister or I repeated a racial joke that we had heard without realizing the significance. He was genuinely saddened and took care to explain exactly what the terms meant and why they were so hateful and hurtful. That is one of the things that I have always admired about him.

Again, it would be pure conjecture on my part to give reasons that I never fully understood to his opposition. I am not a psychologist, although I occasionally play one in real life, ;) but I know that he was going through a very difficult time. After an entire lifetime of pastoring, he was giving up the church, and I think that he needed to feel that there was an area where he still had a position of authority. But, I could certainly be wrong.

How did Carlos' dad feel? Well, years before I ever met their family, he had a dream of Carlos and me being married. He recognized me from the dream as soon as we met, and welcomed me with open arms. During one of the rocky points early one in our relationship, he intervened with some wise counsel and encouragement that helped tremendously. When Carlos met with my dad to ask his permission for us to marry, his dad came, too, to share his support.

My mom, of course, had loved Carlos from the beginning (she told me the day she met him that we should get married!), but she was in a hard position because of my dad. We had a lot of people whom I respected tremendously listen and share loving, wise words with us (thank you again, Granny2Five!!!). If my dad had come against it strongly from the beginning of the relationship, I might have followed his wishes. If you haven't been a part of that kind of patriarchy, it is hard to understand how deeply ingrained it becomes. But after four years of earnestly seeking to do the right thing and believing that it was for Carlos and me to be together, I decided to go ahead without my dad's approval.

We set our wedding date after my graduation the following Spring, and that Fall was incredibly busy. I was teaching seven college classes, and taking five, all while planning the wedding. I was very grateful for the work, but it was hard to prioritize some days. I made my first B, in Ecology, and cried and had bad dreams over it for an absurd amount of time. It makes me laugh now at how important it seemed to keep that 4.0. Things were a bit uncomfortable at home, so I didn't particularly mind being gone so much.

My dad decided that he couldn't participate in the wedding at all, since he felt that it was wrong. He wasn't going to walk me down the the aisle or even show up. Ouch. We didn't talk about it much, because there didn't seem to be too much to say. I heard some things second-hand, about how we would regret the marriage and that shortly after, I would meet "The One," but I don't know how accurate it was.

Those close to us were praying for everyone involved. Interestingly, I learned later that a couple of very strong women felt led to speak with my dad. I don't know what all was said, but three days before the wedding, he told me that he would come and walk me down the aisle if I wanted him to. We both cried. I know that he still had some reservations, but he wanted to reach out and be a part of us. I am so very, very grateful.

It sounds pretty cheesy to say that we all lived happily ever after, but my dad has never said a negative thing to us since then, and not long after was bragging on Carlos as if it had all been his idea in the first place! Seeing the joy we have together has been a significant part of that, and of course, he adores his grandkids, too. I know that Bill Gothard would say my diamond was irrevocably cracked by going out from underneath the umbrella, but we have blessed with a rich and joy-filled marriage.

Now I am left with the confusing part of trying to figure out exactly what to teach my own children on the whole issue. I can see a lot of good things in the whole courtship approach, but I don't feel nearly so dogmatic about it being the only way. It is something that I will be exploring in subsequent posts, and I would love your input!

Courtship vs Dating--Our Story, pt 2

So, in my last post I was explaining how Gothard's teachings on courtship had affected my relationship with Carlos. Really, though, it was much more than the idea of courtship vs dating. It was underpinned by the strong emphasis on patriarchy that goes throughout his materials. The father is the final authority of everything in the family, including who his children, particularly the daughters, shall marry.

I've known some happy marriages who believed in wifely submission. As long as the husband is laying down his life for the wife and respects her and is unselfish, it can work for some people. I was surprised and later pleased to learn that Carlos doesn't agree with that. He believes that the husband and wife should both submit to Christ, and that they should both demonstrate unselfish love to each other. Being male doesn't give him a position over me.

Of course, all the people I know who believe in wifely submission agree that the husband's dictatorship should be benign, that he should not abuse his power, etc. (kind of like how the people I know who spank insist that it shouldn't be done in anger). In practice, it doesn't always work that way, and when it doesn't, the wife has little recourse. She is often told that her attitude is at fault, and if she would only x, y, and z, then her husband would come around.

Bill Gothard teaches that the person under authority is the one who must be responsible for any change. He does give the right of appeal and then the choice to suffer for doing God's will if the authority doesn't yield. However, in nearly all circumstances, it is hard to prove that the husband's will is a direct violation of Biblical commandments, so it usually is interpreted back to the wife's lack of reverence for her husband. If she is visibly unhappy by anything that he has chosen, that is also wrong, because she is publicly shaming him by not being cheerful. The message is clear that the wife must put up and pretend to like it. While this is directed primarily to wives, it definitely applies to their children, as well.

I said at the beginning of part one that I am not sure how much to share about people other than myself. My parents believed the patriarchal teachings, but in my relationship with my dad, there had been relatively little conflict, especially concerning decisions that only involved the two of us (I was guilty of "taking up offenses" sometimes regarding others). I knew that my dad wasn't thrilled with my relationship with Carlos, but since he had responded passively when Carlos asked permission to court/date me, I assumed that would continue.

For those of you who are wondering, yes, yes, I was already demonstrating a lamentably strong will and lack of deference and meekness by not responding to the unspoken disapproval by cutting off the relationship entirely, let alone going ahead with it. Ah, well.

Some of you are also wondering what it was that my dad didn't approve of. It wasn't anything specific with Carlos. He was a dedicated follower of Jesus; he was very disciplined financially and had a good job; he was close to his family and helped his parents in the church they pastored; he had obtained his Masters in one year with a 3.9 GPA; he didn't have issues with anger, lust, etc. He loved kids, he was both bilingual and bicultural. It basically boiled down to the fact that my dad hadn't heard a clear, "Thus sayeth the Lord" that I should marry him. Or at least that is what my dad said.

I could speculate on other factors in their personalities, and my dad's possible preference for another guy who attended our church, but it would be pure conjecture. (The other guy pretty much worshiped my dad, and naturally it is hard to resist someone who admires you so profoundly. I had seen the way this guy treated his sisters, and didn't agree with him on much of anything, so I viewed him quite differently. And, as shallow as this sounds, I must say that physically I was not the least bit attracted. Even at a size 6 and about 118 lbs, I probably outweighed him. It doesn't inspire romantic feelings when sitting next to each other I notice that my thighs are three times as wide as his. But of course, that is my carnal side coming out. I must add, though, that if you have seen pics of Carlos, even someone much more impressive physically than this guy couldn't compete.)

Anyway, Carlos and I dated for a year. After all the weirdness and ups and downs of the previous three years, this year was delightful. I was finishing up my degree and teaching at our community college; he had started a new job and we were both busy with responsibilities there as well as being part of the worship team at church and interpreting regularly (the services were bilingual). We also spent a lot of time with my little brother. All of our time together, though, just cemented our growing love and respect for each other. I felt more myself with him than with almost anyone else. Not only did I like him, I liked myself with him. After a year, we both were ready to commit to marriage. He asked my dad for permission. My dad said no.

Courtship vs Dating, Our Story--pt 1

With the last post about sexuality and reading Razing Ruth's blog, I've wondered if it was time to do a post on the whole dating vs. courtship thing and our story. I am not sure how much detail to go into, or how much commentary I should add. As you know, I am comfortable sharing about myself, but I am not sure how much to share about other people. So, we'll see what ends up making it into this post. Feel free to ask any questions if you are interested!

As I mentioned before, my family was very heavily involved in all of the Bill Gothard teachings. There were some things, like TV, where my dad took the teachings with a grain of salt and we applied them according to our own conscience and discretion. The whole issue of courtship was one where we embraced those teachings much more fervently.

I first started attending the seminars for myself when I was twelve. Like most girls my age, I had guys that I had a crush on. However, Gothard's point of view made a lot of sense to me. He taught that instead of the typical dating cycle that begins fairly early here, it was better to not play around with relationships. Instead, he advocated courtship where the outcome was marriage (unless something very unexpected occurred) and that this should be an agreement between the guy and the girl's parents.

(A quick note: although courtship and dating are considered to be drastically different, I found that in real life the distinction was a bit blurrier. Also, the term courtship sounds so archaic that it is easier to use dating, even though we never did the casual dating according to definition. As I said, it wasn't always clear since we wound up not perfectly following the prescription for courting, either.)

I could already see kids around me going through emotional rollercoasters by getting involved with someone when there was no thought of marriage at all. The hurt feelings, rejection and jealousy they had to deal with, even without any physical involvement, made me sad for them. It seemed like a waste of time and inevitably brought heartache. I soaked up books like Elisabeth Elliot's Passion and Purity, and decided that I would guard my heart.

It worked out pretty well. For one thing, there weren't too many guys around me that would have tested my resolve. I was homeschooled, and there weren't many guys my age in our church, so my field of potential interest was limited, to say the least. There were some guys that I really liked, but they happened to live hundreds of miles away, so that wasn't too promising. I had a pretty active fantasy life, but that was it.

Then, my first semester in college, I met Carlos. I posted about that first meeting here: http://dulcefamily.blogspot.com/2008/08/14-years.html Um, yeah, I was knocked head over heels from the beginning. However, in spite of that, I still held on to the whole Gothardite view. While Carlos hadn't grown up with the Gothard seminars like I had, his family had the typically conservative Hispanic outlook. He hadn't dated much or had a girlfriend. We became friends, but I tried really hard not to read anything more than that into it. I got to know his family and we ran into each other often at school. He was an instructor (not mine), and that was yet another reason for me not to expect anything.

The first Valentine's Day after we met, it crossed my mind to get a card, but I decided that that would be definitely taking things out of the realm of friendship. Even if I hadn't been terrified of rejection and embarrassment, it was a big no-no for the girl to do anything that might seem to be initiating. Once we had talked very briefly and superficially about the whole courtship thing--the guy has to get permission from the dad, it is not about casual dating but done with the intention of marriage, etc.

Apparently, the talk was even briefer and more superficial than I had realized. He surprised me with a gorgeous bouquet of roses, some tapes that he knew I would love, an assortment of other beautiful, extravagant gifts, and a stunning ring. And I had thought even a card was too much!

I was totally shocked and overwhelmed. I had no idea how to respond and felt like I was in one of those weird dreams where you can't move or talk. The one clear thought in my head was that we were no where near ready for marriage--I still had several years of college left--and that this wasn't following the courtship script. I wound up giving it all back. Ouch. I had thought that this approach was supposed to save us from heartbreak and embarrassment! It felt as though we both had gotten enough of that to make up for all my smug years of following the Gothard approach.

The truth was that my heart was already involved, too. I was so scared that I had totally ruined any chance for any future whatsoever between us (not an unreasonable fear, you must admit). Thank God, Carlos was no wimp. While very respectful of my limits, he was still open to being my friend. Even more than that, we began to write letters to each other as a way of getting to know each other better, since most of out time at school was limited to saying hi in the hallways or the language lab.

Now, according to Bill, this was probably dating (he actually says that even thinking about the other person can be dating, which even back then I considered hilarious. Was the guy supposed to go the girl's father and say, "Excuse me, sir, but I would like your permission to think about your daughter?" :snickers: Any guy who asked that would be branded a weirdo by me right off the bat, and I would be a bit concerned about the type of thoughts he was having). Yet, we both tried to keep things on the same level that we would with any other friend.

We tried that for a few years, believe it or not. Looking back, it seems pretty ridiculous to me. However, our motives were pure, and we were truly trying to do the right thing. We wanted to be absolutely certain that God was leading us before moving our friendship to another level. I've since come to the conclusion that God's will isn't as hard to learn as we often make it. Back then, though, we agonized over the tiniest step.

Another tenet of the ATI teaching is about defrauding. Defrauding is defined as stirring up desires that cannot be righteously fulfilled. Women are specially cautioned against dressing in any way that might possibly provoke lust in a man; men are cautioned against leading a woman on more emotionally than they should; and of course, physical involvement is considered to defraud both. Our first kiss wasn't until we were officially dating/courting, three years into our relationship.

Those three years were difficult, needless to say. We wanted to always be honest with ourselves, each other, and every one else. It was blurry and confusing at times, though. Maintaining the delicate balance of holding a relationship to a good friendship when there was a romantic attraction on both sides was tricky, and caused both of us to pull back at times and occasionally to doubt the other.

After three years of that, we believed that changing from "just good friends" to dating/courting was both what God had in mind for our relationship and just being honest about where our hearts were. Carlos went to my dad, but my dad didn't want to commit himself one way or another. So we were dating/courting/whatever, but without official approval (or offical disapproval).

My mom had been for the relationship from the very beginning, and I have some doubts as to her full commitment to the whole Gothard courtship view. She agreed with things like the guy being the one to pursue the relationship, not the girl, and liked the idea that the parents would give their blessing and so on. Still, she believed that God would speak directly to the couple, not just through the girl's father.

I don't know exactly what to say about my dad's view, except that he aligned much more closely with Gothard in that God would reveal especially to him who I was supposed to court/marry.

Funnily enough, even though I had carefully considered the other parts of the courtship teachings, it had never occurred to me what would happen when I believed that God was leading me in one way but my dad didn't. As you would probably guess, it was painful and sticky for everyone.

Joy!

We have had so, so many reasons to be joyful this season. Most of all, for the reminder of God's incredible love for us. Our family is doing well, and both grandparents are out of the hospital. Recovery always takes time, but we are grateful that things are going so well.

Christmas was fun, particularly because we kept it pretty low-key. We did minimal presents and preparation, but with the nausea, tiredness and a cold I picked up, that was just as well. I think we all enjoyed it much more than if we had been stressed-out.

Carlos and I talked more about a home birth, and agreed to have this baby at home. I can't even begin to describe my emotions on that. I felt such a crushing weight every time I considered a hospital birth. Right now, my cup of joy is overflowing! There is such a relief at being able to trust God, my body, my husband and my midwife, and not feel as if I have to battle a hospital and all of its policies. I will probably have an uphill struggle with our insurance, and I don't know what they will contribute, if anything. Even so, I slept much better after the decision than in the previous weeks!

I wish you and your families fullness of joy throughout this coming year, and hope that you find peace and hope in every new day.

One step forward, one step back

I've been interested in home birth for quite awhile now. During the pregnancy with Elena while preparing for an unmedicated birth I learned a lot. The last week or two, I've been obsessed, er, extremely interested in it. I've also done a lot of praying and thinking.

I am one step forward from my previous post. I feel completely set on home birth now. There is a deep, peaceful, quiet inside me when I consider it. Intellectually, I've been doing my homework. Birth is not something that any mother should be uninformed about (and I shudder at how little I knew with my first two births!). But in all honesty, it isn't an intellectual decision for me. I feel so compelled to follow my heart in this that disregarding it would be unthinkable.

My Belovedest, however, is not there at all. Which makes things a little complicated. When he told me that he didn't see any advantage at all in a home birth and no disadvantages in a hospital birth I mentally shrieked, "Have you paid any attention at all to the things that I've shared with you or that we learned last time around?" I didn't scream aloud, because my sense of humor quickly reminded me of the hours that my dear husband has spent patiently educating me on the merits of certain electronic equipment or stuff about cars. Truthfully, I couldn't care less about the differences between a plasma TV and and LED? LCD? Anyway, whatever the other kind of screen is. As long as a car functions reliably, I remain in blissful ignorance of features like a cold-air intake system.

And, in his favor, we did succeed in a natural birth last time despite the hospital setting. I still don't want to go back. So, while we've got plenty of time off work the next few weeks, we'll both be praying and talking a lot. It is important to me that he be comfortable with the decision, too.

Our step back is that I will be calling my hospital-midwife soon and letting her know that we won't be continuing as her clients. I still get alarm bells screaming at me and I don't have clear reasons for why. I have nothing against her at all, but I have no doubt whatsoever that we need to go in a different direction, even if we were to wind up with a hospital birth.

The timing may be tricky, though. For one thing, we are changing insurance companies at the first of the year. For another, I want to be honest and not lead her on. At the same time, I don't want to have a big gap in prenatal care, either. So, we really need to make the decision by the end of this year. Which is easy for me to say, but I'm not sure about Carlos. Prayers are greatly appreciated, for both of us. I feel very confident right now, but if I'm wrong, I'd like to know. Have I mentioned how much I hate waffling? I want whatever we decide to be the best choice and for us to be in true unity and for it to happen quickly. Not too much to ask, is it? ;) At least it is the season for hope, peace and dreams coming true.

Contemplating homebirth

One of my favorite things about pregnancy is that the spiritual, intuitive side of me seems to become much stronger. I don't know if it is just a case of me listening more, or what, but especially after Elena's birth, I pay close attention to any impressions or feelings I get.

Lately, the feelings are an increasingly stronger pull towards homebirth. We have not yet made a firm decision, but it seems that each moment I feel more peaceful about giving birth at home and a tense, anxious feeling like alarm bells at the idea of giving birth in the hospital. So, of course, I will be processing a lot of those feelings here! Feedback is welcome, regardless of your views.

What appeals to me about a homebirth?

The safety. While mortality rates tend to be about the same in all of the major studies comparing hospital births with planned homebirths, the chances of injury/illness in the mother or baby are actually higher in hospitals. There are all the cascading interventions, hospital-acquired infections...the list is long and sobering.

The peaceful atmosphere. In both Ariana and Elena's births, I had people screaming unhelpfully and unnecessarily during the pushing phase. I know from experience that the calm, quiet voices of my husband and midwife are far, far more helpful.

Having birthed naturally, I know that my body knows what to do, and I don't want to have to fight people who would try to get me to be flat on my back and still when that is counter-productive to labor and delivery.

Then there are all the procedures after the birth that I don't want--eye drops, Hep B vax, scrubbing the baby. I can decline them (and would) but it is so nice to not have to argue with anyone at that time.

I hate leaving the kidlets for days with a hospital birth, and would feel much more relaxed knowing that they are nearby. Both Ariana and Joel have expressed interest in being present for the birth, and at home there is much more flexibility than at a hospital.

This will most likely be my last birth, and I would like for it to be a peaceful, gentle welcome into the world, and that is much more likely to happen at home.

There are more, but those are some of the reasons that have been resonating inside me.

The reasons for a hospital birth?

Ummm....

Carlos is more comfortable with that right now. And his feelings are important to me. On the other hand, my feelings are important to him, and if I am anxious and unhappy about a hospital birth, he isn't going to feel good, either.

Insurance. At the moment, our insurance covers hospital births really cheaply for us. However, I have an amazing midwife who has been incredibly generous. And really, if we wind up with interventions or a long hospital stay because of birthing in the hospital, would having insurance help be worth it?

Emergency situations. Sure, those can happen. I have total confidence in our midwife and her ability to recognize a rare situation in which we would need to transfer to a hospital. And, ironically, Elena's birth had a rare complication (prolapsed cord), and yet the outcome would have been exactly the same if she had been born at home. Had I had a different OB, chances are good that it would have been an emergency C-section, but she was out in about four pushes, despite me being flat on my back!

Er...does it seem that I am talking myself into a homebirth more and more?

Beep...Bop...Beep...Bop

I've been sipping iced coffee and listening to Carlos and Elena play their own little version of Marco Polo. He hides and says, "beep" and she immediately responds with "bop" and chases him. She is passionate about this game, and will play it at any time of day or night. Even if we are at an unfamiliar place and she doesn't see him arrive, as soon as she hears the "beep", she breaks into a huge grin and answers back. She takes off as fast as her chubby little legs will go (sadly, she can pretty much outpace me, but my exercise abilities belong to another post). When she catches him, she giggles hysterically and showers him with slobbery kisses and hugs (and occasionally pulls his hair, but we are working on that).

What is interesting about the whole exchange is that, despite the extremely limited vocabulary involved, a lot of communication takes place. She calls out, know that he is calling her and that the ultimate goal is for the two of them to connect. She knows that even when he seems to be hiding from her, he really wants to be found. He is just getting her to look for him, building the anticipation for the gigglefest once she gets close.

I think God plays this game a lot with us. Sometimes when He calls out to us, we expect it to be a complicated or profound, deeply spiritual message. Maybe we are missing the point. What if, sometimes, He just wants us to know He is there? What if He just wants us to chase Him, and then laugh with delight as we are caught by Him and wrapped in His arms? Maybe we need the playfulness of little children to remind us how to enjoy our Daddy in heaven.

Happy Abba's Day

It is very cool to me that God chose to reveal Himself as our Father. He wants us to approach Him as our Daddy. Daddy. Papi. Abba.

One of the best things in my life the last five years has been seeing our kids relate to Carlos. They love being with him.

Every morning, Elena looks for him as soon as she wakes up, and joyfully squeals "Dadada!" as soon as she sees him. She'll fearlessly launch herself towards him, knowing that he'll catch her. The trust and delight in their relationship is incredibly sweet.

Joel has taken to singing songs to Carlos on a regular basis, just because he loves pouring out his heart to his daddy. Last night, Joel fell asleep singing to him. They play games constantly, and his laughter with Carlos is a song in itself.

Ariana's joy overflows when she goes riding bikes with him, and learns something new. Sharing her achievements with him make them even more special to her. When she is stuck in sadness, he can lift her out by helping her giggle and think of something else until she has the perspective to face the problem.

I think we've all heard of fathers who, for whatever reason, wound up blurring the view we have of God. I know that no earthly father is perfect, but I see the love that permeates the relationship between our children and Carlos, and know that they have a solid basis for trusting their heavenly Father and His love for them. What an amazing gift!

As they grow in age and faith, I hope they never lose the exuberance and confidence to throw themselves into God's arms. I hope that He will always be the one they seek before anyone else. I want them to always pour their hearts out to the One who rejoices over us with singing. With each new challenge, I want them to find strength and joy in Him. I hope that they can rest in Him when they are hurting, and be healed. I want them to grow closer each day to their Abba.