My mom, daughter, and I were at the playground next to the covered picnic area where the local farmer's market meets every Thursday at 4 pm. It was still only 3:30, so we had a while to hang out before finding our home-grown treasures. There was another family also playing there, and I can only describe them as sparkling. Somehow they reminded me of gems as they enjoyed each other and the warmth of the day.
The mom and little baby were relaxing on a bench, nursing, and the two little girls, maybe 5 and 4, were running around in flowing tops and jeans, while the daddy was delightedly responding to their creative play.
"Daddy, I found a nest in the tree!"
"You did? You see everything! Wow! That's amazing!"
"You can't catch me, Daddy!"
"I'm coming to get you!"
As I observed all of the excitement and heard the giggles, I was quite impressed with this family's interactions. The dad was so encouraging to his girls and, one could see, supportive of his wife. When the farmer's market was about to start, he continued to play with the girls as the mom headed over to do her shopping. This was just one of those families that one aspires to be part of. I hope we're like that someday, I was thinking, almost sub-consciously.
4 o'clock drew closer, and Mom and I decided to go search out the local coffee roaster. I grabbed my little girl and followed my mom across the playground towards the picnic tables, passing by the gem dad (who was now holding his baby) and his little girls as I did so. Planning a big approving smile as I approached him, I was ready to meet his eye. But I wasn't ready for the gigantic wink that he gave me as I came closer. The gem had flashed in the sunlight, and I burst into a huge grin and let out a laugh, too. I couldn't help but keep smiling throughout our whole time shopping, and I couldn't stop thinking about the inspirational dad and his neat family.
The power of a man who is doing his masculine role well, who is excelling in uplifting his family and engaging with them, is immense. He has the ability to show others the way by example. He has the ability to say implicitly to others, "I know you're in this life thing, too, and you are doing a great job. Keep on! You can do it." At least, those are the words I heard in my mind as I caught the wink of this stranger. Thanks, stranger, and thanks to all fathers and husbands out there who are doing the same.
Jul 18, 2016
What I Learned from Fostering a Dog
Last weekend we decided to foster a dog from a nearby shelter. My husband has wanted a dog since before we got married, but I already had a cat when we got married, and we've lived in apartments until this year, so we never had the opportunity to try a dog until now. We decided to foster rather than adopt right away because we had no idea how our cat would react and wanted to give her a chance to try the arrangement before totally committing. As it turns out, she was not happy with a dog barking and running around the house. She wasn't the only one who wasn't quite ready for a new family member, though!
Keeping a dog for two nights showed us a few practical things, most importantly that we either need to get an older, relaxed dog, or wait for a while until trying a young, active dog again. However, what surprised me about this weekend adventure was that the experience reminded me of truths unrelated to the dog itself.
First, the experience reminded me that my husband is on my team. He was as giddy as a little kid on our way to the shelter to pick up the dog. He was talkative and hopeful. I could sense how much having a doggy companion means to him. A dog draws out his affections (like a cat draws out mine). But as soon as it became clear that this dog was not going to work in our family, my husband changed gears and did not even show too much disappointment (although I know he felt it). He reassured me that our marriage was more important to him than a dog, and that he would happily keep waiting until it's a better time to get a dog. This reminder of my husband's graciousness was encouraging to me. I need not feel guilty that I'm dragging him down by my past decision to get a cat (or, indeed, by my high emotional needs and lack of extra energy right now to take care of a dog). He is for me.
Second, I am for my husband. Yes, it's true! The fact that I was willing to at least try the dog reminded me that I am stronger and more capable of stepping out of my comfort zone than I had realized since becoming a mom. I was willing to stretch. It just turned out that this particular situation would have been a snapping, not a stretch!
I told my husband on our way home with the dog that a verse in the Bible had encouraged me to accept the challenge of dog fostering:
Keeping a dog for two nights showed us a few practical things, most importantly that we either need to get an older, relaxed dog, or wait for a while until trying a young, active dog again. However, what surprised me about this weekend adventure was that the experience reminded me of truths unrelated to the dog itself.
First, the experience reminded me that my husband is on my team. He was as giddy as a little kid on our way to the shelter to pick up the dog. He was talkative and hopeful. I could sense how much having a doggy companion means to him. A dog draws out his affections (like a cat draws out mine). But as soon as it became clear that this dog was not going to work in our family, my husband changed gears and did not even show too much disappointment (although I know he felt it). He reassured me that our marriage was more important to him than a dog, and that he would happily keep waiting until it's a better time to get a dog. This reminder of my husband's graciousness was encouraging to me. I need not feel guilty that I'm dragging him down by my past decision to get a cat (or, indeed, by my high emotional needs and lack of extra energy right now to take care of a dog). He is for me.
Second, I am for my husband. Yes, it's true! The fact that I was willing to at least try the dog reminded me that I am stronger and more capable of stepping out of my comfort zone than I had realized since becoming a mom. I was willing to stretch. It just turned out that this particular situation would have been a snapping, not a stretch!
I told my husband on our way home with the dog that a verse in the Bible had encouraged me to accept the challenge of dog fostering:
"Enlarge the place of your tent; Stretch out the curtains of your dwellings, spare not; Lengthen your cords and strengthen your pegs." Isaiah 54:2One of my favorites, this verse has encouraged me many times with the idea that it's good to let go of my control a little bit in order to live life more fully. On the whole, I'm glad we fostered the dog. Even though it didn't work out as we'd hoped, I think the curtains, cords, and pegs of our marriage and our family were effectively stretched out, lengthened, and strengthened as a result of our adventure.
Jun 1, 2016
All or [Something]
My daughter's first birthday is approaching, and I've been remembering the day she was born. The labor and delivery experience was mostly just what I could have hoped for, but there were a couple of incidents that I wish I could go back and change (as you can read about in a post I wrote to document the experience). These lingering regrets were the topic of a recent tearful bedtime conversation between my husband and me. It may seem silly, but yes, that frustrating disappointment was still bothering me. I told my husband that I wished I could go back and fix it. True to his teacherly style (though he's not a teacher), my husband counseled me using a metaphor I could relate to as an English major: "Why? The paper has been turned in. It's done. Forget about it and move on!"
"But I want to turn in an addendum!" I moaned. "I want to fix the broken things." His response was a revelation and turning point for me: "It's not broken." Simple.
He was completely right, of course. Why, then, had I been feeling so strongly that my labor and delivery experience was broken somehow?
My general take on life, especially tasks I feel responsible for, could fit the expression that "it's all or nothing." Washing with a bar of soap that turned out to smell strange? Use it all up anyway. Using cloth diapers? Better not reach for that disposable. Cleaning house? Darned if it's not a disaster every evening when I haven't swept, mopped, dusted, and wiped down the entire house. In other words, it's all or nothing or I've failed.
But lately I've had to adjust my expectations of myself. Having a kid complicates things. Honestly, having a life complicates things. The cloth diapering is a good example of a responsibility that I've relaxed about. Sometimes a disposable is necessary or just plain easier, and using one doesn't mean that all of the cloth diapering is wasted. We can still have the benefits of cloth even if I use a disposable now and then.
The same is true of the labor and delivery that I've struggled to get past emotionally. Nothing about it needed fixing. Rather, my feelings are what need some adjustment. In reality, the experience was a good one. God gave us a healthy baby. My focus has to shift as I think more gratefully than regretfully about the whole thing. Sometimes life is not "all or nothing." Sometimes plain, ordinary "something" is enough.
"But I want to turn in an addendum!" I moaned. "I want to fix the broken things." His response was a revelation and turning point for me: "It's not broken." Simple.
He was completely right, of course. Why, then, had I been feeling so strongly that my labor and delivery experience was broken somehow?
My general take on life, especially tasks I feel responsible for, could fit the expression that "it's all or nothing." Washing with a bar of soap that turned out to smell strange? Use it all up anyway. Using cloth diapers? Better not reach for that disposable. Cleaning house? Darned if it's not a disaster every evening when I haven't swept, mopped, dusted, and wiped down the entire house. In other words, it's all or nothing or I've failed.
But lately I've had to adjust my expectations of myself. Having a kid complicates things. Honestly, having a life complicates things. The cloth diapering is a good example of a responsibility that I've relaxed about. Sometimes a disposable is necessary or just plain easier, and using one doesn't mean that all of the cloth diapering is wasted. We can still have the benefits of cloth even if I use a disposable now and then.
The same is true of the labor and delivery that I've struggled to get past emotionally. Nothing about it needed fixing. Rather, my feelings are what need some adjustment. In reality, the experience was a good one. God gave us a healthy baby. My focus has to shift as I think more gratefully than regretfully about the whole thing. Sometimes life is not "all or nothing." Sometimes plain, ordinary "something" is enough.
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