Teachable MOMents

We've all been there. That moment when someone tells you something and all you hear is," you're doing it wrong". Maybe that's not what they said or meant. But it's what we hear. 

How do you respond when someone is trying to correct you? If you're like me, your gut reaction is to shut down and tell them to mind their own business.  Especially if they're another parent trying to advise me. 

I mean, who do they think they are trying to tell me how to _______. They aren't better than me. Right? Why should I listen to them? 

Well, I had a moment one day when Silas was almost a one year old.  I was reading through a thread on my Facebook mommy group and the mom who posted was echoing those same sentiments. Then another mom spoke up. "Maybe if we stopped hearing,'you're wrong', when other moms sent us advice, the mommy wars would end. "

Huh? Whoa. I never thought about it like that. She went on to say that she had felt the same way many times. But then she realized that the moms who had reached out to her, genuinely cared about her and knew she loved her kids. They had learned something new and wanted to share. 

But instead of taking it in and really hearing their heart, she had assumed the worst and shut them out. Now, not all of these attempts to reach out were so innocent, she admitted. But a good chunk of them were. And if she had really stopped to read/hear their words in the moment instead of shutting down, she would have learned something valuable. Not just some tidbit of nutrition or car seat safety updates, but that she had the opportunity to forge a deep, rich, friendship with someone who cared for her. 

"I realized,"she said,"that I had stopped being teachable and lost the opportunity to pour into another mom and in turn be poured into. " 

That thread has been coming back to mind lately as I have watched many of my friends on social media make snap judgements of other parents or shut out well-meaning attempts to help because they felt judged. I started asking myself if I was doing that too. I had to admit that I do have that attitude sometimes. 

I think it comes down to a couple of things: being insecure about our choices as moms because we are on our own so much of the time. When we lost the tribe, we lost our confidence. Or the flip side, being so confident in our choice that we can't imagine that another choice might be just as "right" as ours. 

Now, I'm not saying that every time someone approaches you with a bit of advice that you have to (or need to) take it. What I am saying is this: take a deep breath. Take a step back. Listen to the heart behind the words. Tell them thank you for caring deeply about you and yours.

You don't have to take that advice but you can look at what they've offered with an open mind. It doesn't mean you have to change your mind. But it does mean that you've given them the opportunity to connect with you. You've allowed them to be a part of your village. You've allowed yourself to be teachable and reachable. 

We won't always agree with every parent on every topic. But we can agree to listen to each other. We can agree that we all love our kids. We can agree to model fellowship and love and deep, genuine, friendships for our children. We can stop reacting and start relating. 

You Scream, I Scream, We All Scream...

You scream, I scream, we all scream...well, it's not for ice cream.  Nope, no sugary sweet conversations over irrisistable treats happening in the mommy group these days. The "mommy wars" are alive and well.  

The battle cry has varied over the years. Topics have ranged from how (and when) we give birth to our children, how we raise our children, how we discipline, parenting styles, nutrition, breastfeed or formula feed...the list goes on and on. 

The latest hot button conversation starter is the great vax debate.  If you wanna get a bunch of moms spewing hate-filled angry words at each other just casually mention the words "measles", "flu", "pertussis", and stand back and watch. You might even wanna grab some popcorn because the show is guaranteed to be epic. 

Regardless of how I feel about any of these issues, that's not what I want to talk about. I want to start a different conversation. When did a parenting decision trump embracing my fellow mom with love, grace, compassion, and friendship? When did differing perspectives begin to outweigh the blood of Christ? When did my singular experience in this life become so much more important than that of the struggling, hurting, discouraged moms surrounding me? 

Being a mom is hard. Not only do you have all the societal pressures and inner struggles that become your inheritance when you enter this world as a woman, but then you get mom guilt, post partum body image, and kid comparison to boot. 

Two generations ago, moms didn't have this kind of isolation. Moms were celebrated and supported. Most of all they were surrounded by multiple generations of moms, grandmas, aunts, sisters, and neighbors. There was a wealth of knowledge, support, and encouragement to draw on. Moms today don't have that. 

Today's mom, if she's lucky, might have a handful of like-minded moms to face the daily battle of parenthood with. She might even have at least one supportive parent (or in law) to lean on and glean wisdom from. But mostly she's scouring the Internet at 3am reading blogs, or searching Facebook groups for help, or browsing the kindle store for the next top-selling parenting book. 

Today's mom is defeated by Pinterest and Instagram and Hollywood perfection. She's isolated and afraid and self-doubting. She's afraid to ask the questions haunting her every time she fails. Because if she asks she has to admit to the world that she hasn't got it all figured out. She has to admit that she doesn't have some inner goddess-matron intuition to guide her. She has to admit that babies and toddlers and teenagers aren't simple, easy, or one size fits all. She has to admit that she's not enough. 

Or maybe that's just me. I'm tired of keeping it inside. I've lost the benefit of the sisterhood of moms and it pisses me off. I can't have a conversation with another mom without testing the waters first. I have to make sure that my set of doubts, fears, struggles, etc will meet her own standards of what is acceptable. 

 I'm afraid that if I admit my struggles, dreams, and desires for parenting, I'll be judged and shamed. I'm terrified that I'll be the next vilified mom on the block if I broach a topic that might be too taboo. Or worse, my incredibly funny, smart, imaginative, curious little boy will be ostracized, singled out, or picked on because his mama just can't conform to the mommy mold of our current social circle. 

I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to gather a circle of sister-moms around me. I want us to live life together and support each other. I want our differences to enrich each other. I want our different experiences and perspectives to strengthen each other. 

I have been incredibly blessed the past couple of years to have found an online group of women to talk to and be encouraged by.  But there's only so much life that can happen through a computer.  I miss having face to face community.  I crave it. 

I want to create a vibrant community around me that is full of incredibly varied backgrounds that comes together with one goal: loving each other and our children without discrimination or prejudice. 

I want the mom wars to end. 

So I'm waving the white flag. 

I don't care how you parent. I don't care what choices you make for your kids when it comes to their health or education. I don't care where you buy your groceries or eat your meals. I don't care if you are the Pinterest mom of the year or can't glue two Popsicle sticks together to save your life. 

I want to hear about all of these things. Of course I do. Let's meet at Starbucks and I want to hear your fears, concerns, passions, struggles. I want to have coffee and talk about how and why we do anything as parents. I want to hear your side of your story. I want to share mine too. But I'm leaving the judgement at home.  

Let's embrace each other and root each other on. Let's celebrate the victories. Let's cry together over the hard days. Let's hold each other and learn from each other.  Let's learn to love each other the way we were meant to.