Masterpieces

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The one parenting decision that people have expressed the most shock over isn't related to breastfeeding, cosleeping, our vaccination status or discipline.  However, the shock would lead a bystander to think we are neglectful parents.  Ready for it?  Deep breath.  We didn't pierce our daughters' ears.  For Hispanics, that is about as surprising as not circumcising would have been in the US a few decades ago.  (Happily, most Hispanics do not circumcise).

My mother's church growing up took great care not to conform to the world.  The women didn't wear pants, or make up or pierce their ears or cut their hair short.  I know all the arguments that would dismiss that--I used them on my mom!  God looks at our hearts, not our outward appearance.  And it can still become all about conforming to church culture (the same hair dos, the same style of dress) and turn into an issue of pride.  And as far as modesty goes, any hyperfocus on something tends to actually draw more attention to it in the first place.  But.

But, in spite of those things, I also saw a sincere desire to please God with their bodies, a recognition that we are created by the Master Artist and that we don't have to make ourselves into copies of our culture.  And I admire that deeply.

So, back to the whole ear-piercing thing.  I got my ears pierced for my tenth birthday.  It hurt a lot.  We did one of those ear-gun places at the mall.  Despite careful applications of alcohol and the salve that we were given, one ear developed a boil-like, pus-filled infection.  Even after following all the instructions about leaving the posts in, twisting, etc, for the first few years, one of the holes would close over in the back if I didn't sleep with my earrings and I would have to punch it through. (If my children get pierced, they will go to a professional piercer that uses a needle instead of a tissue-crushing gun).

However, I am very, very glad that my parents let me make the choice about what to do with my own body.  I like wearing earrings, and have not had any problems at all for over twenty years.   I pierced my sister's ears at home with a sterilized needle, thread and a potato. When my mom decided to get her ears pierced, I was delighted to go with her.  It seemed like a symbolic choice of freedom somehow.  And when a friend of mine got a navel ring, I accompanied her and celebrated with her.

The issue of choice is important to me, and not one that I would make for someone else.  When our first daughter was born, Carlos and I discussed the idea of getting her ears pierced and quickly agreed that there was no reason to do something painful and permanent to our baby for cosmetic reasons.  She was perfect the way she was.  If she wanted to get her ears pierced once she was old enough to understand the choice and take care of them, she could, but we weren't going to make the choice for her.  

This weekend, my seven year old and I had a conversation about make up, piercings and other forms of body art.  It provoked some thought about what I want my standards to be for my children.  Ariana hasn't shown interest in makeup before, but she confided in me that she thinks she would like to wear lip gloss and maybe some other stuff sometimes.  Her two year old sister, on the other hand, asks me to buy her blue lipstick almost daily.

Like our conversations about shaving, it made me feel a little uncomfortable about the messages that I am sending my daughters.  Not only do I wear earrings, I have been wearing makeup--a lot of make up--since I was ten or eleven.  I like the way I look with makeup better than the way I look without it, for sure.  Yet I don't want my daughters to think that they need makeup, ever, and certainly not as children!  I feel like a hypocrite, and that bothers me a lot.

I believe that God designed us with a desire for beauty and creativity.  Part of being made in His image is our drive to create and make things beautiful, to express our own uniqueness.  Body are can certainly be part of that.  When my kids wanted to make their hair different colors, I was happy to let them.

But they are already masterpieces.  Their bodies are beautiful.  I want them to know that and rejoice in who they are.  I don't want them to make changes to their bodies from a pressure to conform to those around them, or to think that they aren't "enough" already.  And I won't even get into the whole issue of sexualization of children, but I highly recommend reading Pigtail Pals for some excellent posts.

I find it easy to come to clear decisions on a lot of topics, but this is one where I struggle.  I am not sure exactly how to transmit my values to my children and be authentic.  The whole beauty thing is tough.  I work at not putting my self down, especially not in front of my children.  Most of the time I feel accepting of the way I look.  But I also am self conscious of weighing more now than I did at the end of pregnancy with my first three.  My hair is different shades thanks to do-it-yourself attempts at covering grays.  My skin is splotchy thanks to hormonal surges.  I could go on to list flaws in my teeth and more.  

I have friends who have been models and I dabbled in it briefly as a teenager (never made any money or did any jobs where someone would recognize me, but I had fun).  I know that even people that most of us consider very attractive tend to criticize their own appearance.  But I don't want that for my children.

Being the change we want to see it hard.  I am not convinced that I need to give up make up and jewelry or anything--like I said earlier, I believe that a desire to express beauty and creativity in our bodies is part of the way we are made.  But I also want to balance that with the recognition of the beauty that is inherent within us.  And I want my actions to match my words.  How do you teach your children that they are masterpieces?

Beautiful

I am so, so excited.  Sarah from Under the Olive Branch has written a guest post!  If you haven't yet visited her blog, please head over there.  Although The Restoration of All Things finished, there are many more stories to be told!

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Photo credit rante i on Flickr

One thing that stays on my heart is the way that people feel about themselves, and how much that has to do with what they are constantly told. Directly or indirectly.

People are not told enough, in no uncertain terms, that they are beautiful. Of course we all know that advertising, bad habits of comparing ourselves to others, and comments we hear from people about other people can pile up into a scary under-the-bed monster that comes out every so often just to remind us that beauty is still far from our grasp. Like a tiny purple flower growing on the peak of the world's highest mountain. We are required to pursue it while knowing full well that by the time we reach it's former home, frost bite will have long since destroyed it beyond all recognition.

And what are we armed with? Cliche phrases like, "True beauty comes from within.", and "But you are fearfully and wonderfully made!" Both of these are so true, that the actual realization of it in a glorious moment of understanding almost hurts. But how do you transfer that understanding to a dear friend as she lingers before the mirror a few moments longer, scrutinizing her every curve? Or to your sweet little cousin who simply won't be convinced that her freckles are lovely? Or even to yourself when you have a slight lapse into vanity and forget?

I don't mean to imply that this is solely a girl's conundrum. Plenty of guys struggle with what they look like as well.

Too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too lanky. Wrong nose, wrong complexion, wrong eyebrows.

Don't even get me started on hair. I was "blessed" with curly hair that not one hair dresser on the planet knows what to do with. They just want to brush it. Then I have to turn sideways to get out the door.

The truth is that there aren't enough words to say that can convince a wounded spirit that she is beautiful. She (or he) has to be shown. We have grown up in a world where ugly is among the most fearful things we feel we could possibly be.

No. We have to show each other that beautiful is not something to be achieved by suddenly morphing into [insert gorgeous celebrity here]. It comes from embracing the person God made you to be.

A bottle of hair dye can be so much fun, and a new diet can be healthy.

But they are not what make you beautiful.

You aren't beautiful because you're taller than that one girl, or shorter than that other one.

Not because your hair outshines all the other hair in the land with it's glossiness.

Or because you have the perfect hourglass figure.

No.

You are beautiful because you listen.

Because you sing.

Because you play.

Because you love.

Because you are you. The only you ever.

I want to encourage everyone not to deprive the world of themselves just because they are not a carbon copy of [again with the gorgeous pop star]. You were never meant to be anyone besides you.

I feel inclined here to quote a favorite band of mine called The Danielsons, who simply stated, "Be just who you're made to be, Poppa is so mighty pleased with thee." We are the Creator's creation. And He is well pleased with us. Who cares what society says about our ears or our waistlines or our hair? Of course we should take care of ourselves, but it is not society that gets to tell us what we are.

Photo credit markwy on Flickr

Beauty is when a friend calls at 5am and you are right there to listen without a second thought.

It's when you are tucking a little one in at night and sing to him after a long day.

It's a cup of coffee in your hands on the porch in the morning, just soaking in the sunrise.

It's those times in life when you get it right.

And those times when you get it horribly wrong, but you learn... and you get a second chance to get up and have another go.

We are beautiful because our lives are beautiful.

We are beautiful because God loves us.

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Sarah Whitlock is married to her first kiss, Joseph, and is a Wielder of the Quill of Endearing Humor.  More of her writings are available at Under the Olive Branch.

Her body, her choice

Photo by renfield on Flickr

"A double minded man is unstable in all his ways." ~ James 1:8  AKJV

Despite my recent post on foolish consistency, I really like to know where my boundaries are.  When I am in the process of trying to determine exactly what is appropriate and what isn't, I wind up getting frustrated with my kids and myself.  Once I am clear on what boundaries I will enforce and why, there is much more peace.

My latest conundrum has involved body boundaries and pride in appearances.  One of my convictions is that my children should know that their bodies belong to them, and that if they tell someone "no", that must be respected.  The only exceptions involve safety issues.  For example, I am ruthless about carseat usage.  Whether they like it or not, they must be properly buckled up when we go somewhere.   Elena has started fighting it a little.  She screams and flails.  There is no shaming, roughness, punishment or anything like that, but there is also no negotiation.  If we are going somewhere, she is in her seat.

Ariana has always shown some tactile defensiveness.  She is extremely sensitive to anything touching her body, and even in winter will wear the least amount of clothing possible.  She winds up in a short-sleeve shirt and underwear as soon as we get home.  She also loathes to have her hair brushed.  Regardless of how gently it is done, she is reduced to tears nearly every time.  We've tried haircuts and spray conditioners, different kinds of brushes and combs, etc.  They help a little, but it is still an ordeal.  Now with something like brushing teeth, I feel confident in enforcing it.  But there is no health/safety issue with hair--just my pride at stake because I don't want to appear neglectful.

We've negotiated different things--brushing a certain amount of strokes, stopping for a break anytime she asks, her doing it, me doing it, and pretty much every other thing that I can think of.  I've explained my reasons for wanting it to be brushed, we've talked of ways to reduce tangles, let her choose special clips or barrettes...nothing really helps.

I feel icky about trying to manipulate her or force her.  Deep down, I think that it is her body and that she should be able to refuse.  I also remember going through similar issues with my mom over fingernails.  I cannot describe how absolutely horrible the sensation was on my fingertips for the first two or three days after cutting my nails, even when they weren't cut too short.  I get how ridiculously dramatic it sounds to use terms like violation, rage, or even hurt--I really do--but the feelings of helplessness and violation were real. 

So now I am trying to navigate just how important it is to conform to cultural standards of haircare versus my daughter's right to say no and control her own body.  I would love to wrap up this blog post with a nice little bow of resolution, but I haven't quite found it yet.  So far, we compromise in that we do minimal brushing at home and negotiate some for special occasions.  (Yes, I have explained several times that keeping it brushed regularly will help reduce knots and tangles, but in reality, it doesn't seem to make a huge difference, and she insists that she would rather have less brushing, period).  Anyone want to solve my dilemma?

Beautiful Bodies

Image credit: bionicteaching on Flick

One of the things that I love about breastfeeding and birth is the message to our children that our bodies are, in short, amazing. There are so many subtle, ubiquitous messages in our society that our bodies are wrong--the wrong shape, the wrong size, the wrong color--and that they just don't work. I don't want my children to internalize those attitudes. There are a few things that I have consciously chosen to do to help fight that:

Awareness. The poison is everywhere. And it doesn't only target girls. I saw my four year old practicing muscle poses in the mirror. It was cute, and I didn't over-react or anything, but it reminded me that many boys also suffer from body-issues over size. I want to keep an eye out for any signs that these views are taking hold in any of my kids.

Watch my mouth. To this day, every single time I see my mother, she makes negative comments about her own appearance. So do most women, I think. I purposed in my heart when my first daughter was born that she wouldn't hear me running myself down about my body. I've been able to keep it pretty well, even when it is a struggle. Ironically, one of the hardest times to do that is if someone pays me a compliment! How crazy is that? My first response is always to negate whatever they say. I suspect that that is another example of gender-conditioning, and I know that Gothard is really big on always deflecting praise. It is incredibly difficult for me to accept it with a gracious "thank you", but I am trying to learn for my children's sake.

Control. Or rather, don't try to control things I am not supposed to. One thing that has come up with many people I know who have gone through eating disorders is that it was one of the few things that they were able to control in their lives. I want to allow my children freedom, especially over their own bodies, but in other areas, too. As babies, they breastfeed as much and as often as they want, so that they get used to following their bodies' cues on hunger and satiety. We have never forced food. Most of the time, they can eat whatever they want within the things we have in the house. We are designed to regulate our intake well, and if left alone, generally do so. Check out some of these posts by Authentic Parenting, Dare to Disciple, and Ask Dr. Sears.

Be an example. Along with modeling a healthy attitude toward my body by not complaining about it, I also try to eat moderately. Food allergies have helped tremendously in getting us used to cooking a lot and being aware of the ingredients in foods. On the other hand, there have also been plenty of times when I have excused junk if we actually find something safe for the kids to eat. Also, I have a big sweet tooth (or more accurately, several sweet teeth). It is hard to balance, sometimes. And I will just go ahead and admit that when it comes to exercise, I am a flat failure. I have lots of excuses, but that is what they are. However, we did get a wii fit for Christmas, so that might help. And we do lots and lots of outdoor stuff, walking and playing, etc. It is doubtful that things like sit-ups, though, will ever be in my repertoire.  Clearly, I need to put more effort into this step.

Talk about it. If they watch a Barbie movie, we talk about the lack of realism in Barbie's shape. We talk often about what real beauty is (inner and outer). We tell our children that they are beautiful, especially focusing on things like their eyes, as well as the beauty in their spirits and personalities.

I think these things will help. And I am sure that there is more I can do. One thing that troubles me some is that in our family, there are some people who joke frequently about weight. I've mentioned it once or twice, but it has been a habit of theirs for decades and isn't going to change. I am not ready to cut them out of our lives or anything extreme like that. There is no question that all the good things from the family relationships far outweigh that (no pun intended).

I also question media exposure and some of the toys we allow in the house, superheroes for one (despite enjoying the occasional movie, they aren't the least bit interested in Barbie dolls). Again, it seems that the enjoyment and imaginative play that they have is more important than trying to limit their access.

Our bodies are beautiful. I want my children to always do what they can to be healthy, but to never despise themselves or others for their uniqueness. I want to learn more and more about this topic, and to be more mindful of what I am teaching my children. Advice is always welcome! How do you teach your children that they are wonderfully made?

Confessions of a Non-Conformist

Like most kids, I desperately wanted to fit in when I was growing up. But for many reasons, I didn't. That became kind of a habit, and as an adult, although I still crave approval tremendously (one kind comment on my blog will have me smiling all day!), I have become much more comfortable with myself and going against the flow.

So I am going to make a confession. Please don't judge me too harshly. I have always been open about most of our parenting choices, even those that might provoke some controversy. But, I have never had a bad reaction to breastfeeding an older child in public. This, on the other hand, has garnered some passive-aggressive comments and dirty looks in the past. :deep breath: I let my children climb up the slide on playgrounds.

I shall add the hasty disclaimer that if someone is at the top, they always let that person come down first. Otherwise, they spend far more time going up the slide than coming down it. At the parks that have parallel slides, they race each other over and over to see who can get to the top first. Some parents strongly disapprove of this, I know. But I have yet to hear much of a reason for it. As long as other children are being respected and allowed to go down the slide, I can't find a reason to prohibit it other that "we just aren't supposed to do it that way."

When my sister and I were small, my mom's response to our incessant questions of why things had to be done a certain way was, "Because that's the way it is/was done." We found that nonsense, of course. Mere precedence was unsatisfying as a reason for me. It still is. Knowing that most people did/do things that way is comforting at times, but not reason enough to continue doing it that way.

Photo by Craneform

On some level, my mom must have felt the same way. When we were traveling through Europe, she pointed out several houses with lovely window boxes full of red and pink flowers. In a voice full of emotion, she explained that when she was in first grade, she had been coloring a picture and had been told by the teacher that it was ugly--that no one would put red and pink flowers next to each other because they didn't go together. More than 50 years later, she still felt the sting of that remark, and the exhilaration of being proven right.

I've heard several parents say that slides are not for climbing up--only for sitting down on. (Since I'm confessing here, I'll go ahead and admit that half the time, when our kids do come down the slide, they are on their tummies). I always monitor for safety, and they have always been great about that, too.

Why do I allow this? Well, it is more educational this way. Each time they climb up they are learning about physics, their center of gravity, balance, momentum and a host of other concepts. They are also learning that there is more than one way of doing things, and that while they should always respect others, they don't always have to imitate them. That is an incredibly valuable lesson. 50 years from now, I don't want them to regret not coloring according to someone else's vision of the picture. Finally, it is just plain fun! And really, fun is reason enough.

Wonderfully Made

Happy 2010! 'Tis the season, of course, for resolutions, and for women, it seems to be expected that many of those will involve our bodies and attempting to transform them into The American Ideal for 2010, or at least prevent them from getting any further from The Ideal than they are already.

Being healthy is always a good goal, but the longer I live, the more incensed I become at our culture's insistence that God really did a lousy job of creating women. Ina May Gaskin makes excellent points about the whole "the-female-body-is-a-lemon" mindset that pervades the medical profession. We lament the problem that so many of us have with self-image, but it is little wonder when we are told constantly that we are physical failures.

Very few women that I know naturally fit the shape that our current culture appreciates. However, looking back a few decades is a good reminder at how capricious this is. I would never make it with the Twiggy look--I'm much more the 1950's curvy type. I have gorgeous friends who would actually fit more naturally into the '70s, though. And if you are prepared to look outside the US for standards of feminine beauty, or simply to art from a century or two ago, you'll find an even wider range. Interestingly, it seems to always favor the wealthy (those who can afford more food/better food/gym memberships/servants), and often involves incapacitating the woman (think of things like corsets or bound feet).

It isn't just beauty standards, either. Two of the things that are unique to women--child birth and breastfeeding--have also been denigrated and medicalized until most women believe themselves incapable of either. Our current C-section rate is 1 in 3. Now, I am grateful that they are an option when medically warranted, but do we seriously believe that one out of three women is incapable of giving birth normally? Really? Even an uncomplicated vaginal birth is assumed to be a death-defying act where only an epidural and a range of high-tech equipment and specialists keep the woman and child safe from betrayal by her incompetent body.

Breastfeeding rates are also dismal. Of course, there are many reasons for that, but it is appalling to me how many women truly want to breastfeed and yet are told that they can't make enough milk/their milk isn't good enough/their breasts are too big/too small/whatever. We are convinced that cows are better at nourishing our human babies than their human mothers. Do we honestly believe that God created plants and animals and it was good, but when He got to women He messed up so catastrophically?

Go back and read the beginning of Genesis. Not just men, but male and female are created in God's image. I think that our Bible translations and our culture often give us the false impression that God is male. Yes, we use the masculine pronouns, and yes, He appeared on Earth as a man, but He is Spirit. He isn't male, or rather, He is male and female. He is complete. (The Aztecs and many other peoples realized this).

Now, a few people are probably ready to grab some stones and charge me with heresy, but the Bible actually uses intensely feminine imagery at times when referring to God. Aside from the Genesis account that straightforwardly declares that both male and female were made in God's image, Deuteronomy 32:18, exhorting God's people to turn back to Him, talks about the God who writhed (or danced!) in the act of giving birth to them, although that is obscured in the KJV. There are other passages, as well, not to mention beautiful references to breastfeeding throughout the Bible.

Our female bodies, that have been condemned as incompetent by our culture, are actually gloriously, wonderfully made. So this year, as you consider steps to improve the amazing design we've been given, consider what a beautiful woman you are. God made your body. And it is good.

Hair today, gone tomorrow?

Photo by Betssssssy on Flickr

Summer is here, and it is time to break out the tank tops, swim suits and other hot-weather survival gear...and maybe the razor?

This is a dilemma I face every summer season now. Oh, for the innocent days of my youth when I naively assumed that being able to shave was a cool part of being grown up. I actually liked the idea back then. Of course, that was a couple of decades ago. I also wore hose/tights at times then, and had sensory issues that made the prickle of hair underneath them absolutely awful. As I've grown, I've come to see pantyhose as a demonic device, much the way most people nowadays would view torture relics from the Inquisition, and have found my freedom.

I am somewhat ambivelent, however, about embracing life as a hirsute hippy. Now, since I've had kids, I've naturally progressed towards a more, er, natural lifestyle in many respects, anyway. We practice child-led weaning, cloth diaper, don't vaccinate or circ, and generally go along with many of the other tenets of those who appreciate the way our bodies are designed. When my oldest daughter asked me why I shaved my legs, I had no satisfactory answer.

I am not usually one to do things just because "everyone else" is doing it. Besides, I have enough friends in enough places to know that not everyone finds the absence of hair more attractive.

Despite my preference for natural childbirth, I am a total wimp and would never consider anything like waxing or any other form of hair removal that could possibly involve pain, however fleeting or minor. I am sensitive to the chemicals in dipilatories, so those are out. Which leaves only a razor, and I get razor burn easily.

Somehow, though, I admit to a mild asthetic preference for smooth, hairless skin. And, TMI perhaps, but I find it easier to smell fresh and ladylike without a ton of hair, also more of a consideration when it is 100+ degrees outside.

But, I am also lazy, and not inclined to shave daily, anyhow. And with three kidlets, time alone in the bathroom is rare enough that I don't want to commit to the upkeep.

So most of the time, I compromise. I shave under my arms frequently in summer, and occasionally but not always my knees and below if they will be visible/I plan on swimming.  I won't go into details about more personal areas except to say that the occasional trim with scissors is the most I'll do there (see previous comments on waxing, et al. Ouch! I crossed my legs just thinking of it).

Yet, as I consider items to pack for this summer's trip, I sigh inwardly and wonder why, and even if, I should bother to pack a razor. Would I feel differently if I had grown up in a culture where women didn't normally shave? It is interesting to think about all the little things that go into beauty rituals across time and place. Which ones are worth passing on to my daughter?

Shame off you!

Image credit Jennuine Captures on Flickr

As I prayed this week about what to share, the one thing that kept coming was, “Tell them I love them”. I am embarrassed to say that my first response was almost to write it off. I mean, we all know that already, right? It is the first thing that we learn as believers—Jesus loves me. But the more I listened, the more I realized how easy it is for us to lose that message. Somehow, it gets watered down in our minds to mean “Jesus tolerates me”. Am I the only one guilty of this?

I look at the deep love I have for my husband and children, and the delight I have in them, yet it is so easy to doubt that God delights in me. I don’t doubt that He has forgiven me, but for some reason, a part of me expects Him to look at me with…I don’t know…disappointment? Resignation? As though loving me is merely an obligation on His part.

The good news is, the Bible paints a very different picture of His love for us. It is passionate, joyful, aching for intimacy with us!

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zeph. 3:17. Imagine that—the King of the Universe is so delighted with you that He sings about it! One version says that He shouts for joy!

He wants us. He wants to be close to us. And I think that most of us long to be closer to Him. What impedes us? Sin, of course, but I think that often it is not the sin itself, but the shame. We give ourselves to Him and receive freedom and forgiveness, but we don’t always give our shame to Him. We hold onto it, replay things in our minds, and try to “punish” ourselves with reminders of how we have fallen short. And I think that breaks His heart.

He knows everything, right? So, He knew everything about us, all the mistakes we would make, all the faults, and He still decided that WE WERE WORTH LOVING. He isn’t disappointed in us, because to be disappointed, you have to expect something else. 

Obviously, He wants us to be free from sin. Romans 6 makes it clear that we are no longer to be in bondage to sin. But it is interesting to me that after that is dealt with, Romans 8 goes on to remind us that there is no longer any condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.

Ironically, sometimes our very efforts to become closer to God are the source of our shame. Growing up, I would make all these promises to spend x amount of time praying, reading my Bible etc. The days that I didn’t reach my goal I felt so guilty. I still believe that those disciplines are important, but they aren’t my goal—the goal is spending time with Him. I’ve discovered the joy and intimacy of doing nothing with God. Just as some of my favorite moments with Carlos aren’t always about having deep discussions, but just snuggling close on the couch while I read and he watches TV or whatever. There is an underlying awareness of the other’s presence that makes us both smile inside.

God loves us. He really, deeply passionately loves us. He enjoys us. And He longs for us to let go of our shame, and step forward as His bride, radiant and beautiful in His eyes. “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.” Jer. 31:3. I hope that this week you will be filled with the sense of His presence throughout your day, that you will let go of any shame, and revel in His song over you.