It was sweet and it was beautiful, but it was gut-wrenchingly awful at the same time. We listened to Pastor go on about how wonderful mothers were and the boys sank deeper and deeper into the pew. I kept my eye on Levi, just praying he could tune out the words. It would be his first mother’s day since his own Mama passed away.
It’s only natural to contemplate the seasons of motherhood when the eldest in the family tree leaves this earth within weeks of the arrival of the youngest little girl.
When it comes to issues of motherhood, there is one issue I care about: some kids don’t have one. All of these petty wars about the choices of capable, loving mothers is just a lot of white noise to me, Quite honestly, I’m often astonished at the non-essential parenting issues I see moms getting their panties in a wad about. Particularly when there are so many kids in this world not being parented at all. This is the only mommy war I’ll wage.
When we decided to adopt, we have a few friends with disturbing concerns about how we “didn’t know what we were going to get”. I would say that this is true for anyone who decides to become a parent. I’ve observed that all four of my children were born with distinct personalities that seemed to transcend the fact that they’ve each been raised in the same household. It’s been a joy to see how each child’s personality develops. All parents would do well to give their kids the freedom to be who they are.
Apropos of Mother’s Day and the Time cover debacle:
I have seen my share of photos of older children nursing in other countries where there’s a lot more of the mother’s breast exposed (like the whole thing – nipple and all – because both breasts are clear to the eye since she’s topless); yet, these photos evoke beauty, peace, and maternity. But this photo does nothing of the sort. The Time photo shows defiance. It shows a flash of breast. What it doesn’t show is any inkling of serenity or maternity or love.
I’m a pretty crunchy, natural-living, attachment-parenting kind of girl, but I never thought I would be breastfeeding a two-year old. Ever. And I’ll be honest: it’s mostly because of all the negative things people say about extended breastfeeding–and the women who practice it.