Mothers and Fathers

In my household, we try to not to go to church on Mother's Day or Father's Day. Mike and I both hate church on our particular day. For me, it irritates me for some stranger to hand me a flower and wish me a Happy Mother's Day. I know I have heard other moms say the same thing. Then this wonderful sermon follows extolling the great virtues of mother's in general. Then 6 weeks later, Father's Day rolls around and Mike gets verbal abuse from the pulpit about how men are shirking their responsibilities. So we don't go, if we can avoid it.

This has been going on for years and always feels wrong to me. So I am assuming that is why my oldest daughter sent me an article about this. It was from Kritik which I guess is an online magazine. It is also written by a man who sees the same trend about fathers getting the shaft. Mother's Day wracks up 14 billion dollars in gifts each year and Father's day only 8 billion. The author was pondering why this happens so he asked some friends and this was their conclusion.


I was sitting around talking with a number of friends of various ages and familial circumstances, and since Mothers’ Day was just around the corner, I proffered up my typical inquiry. For once, I finally got an insightful response:
I was told that a mother exists in continual doubt of her efforts. Even if she is the most excellent of moms, laboring day in and day out to be the best mother that she can be, she is always second-guessing her life’s work. The characteristic mindset for a woman is to wonder if she is doing enough, whether she should be doing more, or whether she should be doing something different. She needs—and deserves—encouragement and affirmation more than anything else.
The father, on the other hand, has an entirely different mentality. Most men are pretty darn secure, and are thus fairly oblivious to what anybody else may think of them. If the man is a poor or mediocre father, he probably doesn’t know it and certainly doesn’t act like it. Men seem to come standard with an ingrained, self-affirming mechanism. It could be obvious to the whole world that a certain guy is stupid, inconsiderate and obnoxious, but he himself will probably still be pretty confident of his status as a model human.


I totally disagree. I think men are just as insecure about parenting as females. I believe men crave respect and honor way more than women. Especially from their families. I don't think that men are so confident that they swagger around the room clueless about who they are tromping all over. I think the swagger you sometimes see comes from a self-protective wall that buries the hurt of the difficulties of life. And that includes parenting, which is a challenging job, at best.

My own father does a lot of swaggering (Is that a word?) but I know he loves his family and we are very important to him. From what I know about his dad, he was a crappy role model. My dad has done many things better than his dad did. I think he has gotten so good at pretending that he doesn't care what anybody thinks, it is hard to separate that from his true self. I have seen this mask fall off a few times. I wish I could see more of him like this. Maybe someday!

Birthday Blues

I stink at birthdays. Just mine. Not the "I don't want to get old", way of hating birthdays. I don't care who knows that I just turned 46. I just cannot figure out what I want to do with birthdays in my heart.

Last Sunday was my birthday and I was set up for a disaster by the circumstances. We had a houseful of company including my dad (probable cause for emotional meltdowns!). Jared and Jessica had 2 wedding showers that weekend and I was exhausted by Sunday. As it turned out Sunday morning I was home alone sleeping in. Mike had taken the kids to church and I got to sleep until almost noon. It started well!

After I got up, I read some emails and looked at facebook. One message from Tracy really hit me. (Thanks Tracy) She wished me a happy birthday and hoped that I was celebrated by many people today. That went straight to the core issue of why birthdays are so hard for me. I don't have a clue what that would look like but it is a deep desire. Even when people around me try to make that happen, I mess it up with all the baggage I drag through the room. It can be very ugly and poor Mike is left looking like New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina came through.

Then I read another message and I felt betrayed by someone I love. It had nothing to do with my birthday but I felt like they had kicked me in the stomach. I sat in the tub and cried. The afternoon was difficult to get through, sitting through a bridal shower for the kids and wishing I were back in the tub. Then when I got home, Mike was trying but he didn't stand a chance. I was so crushed I told him that he couldn't fix it. Being male, he missed that. So we went out to eat because I was starving. 45 minutes after we were home again. Did I mention we were not having fun?

The next day my sister called and she cheered me up. She always does. My sisters and I have a bond and understand each others brains and emotions better than anybody ever will. We can laugh about anything and I can tell her just about anything. We laughed about "The Dark Place" and she lifted my dark clouds. Belated wishes keep coming in and I do feel loved and celebrated. Maybe someday I will enjoy my birthday without going crazy on the actual day. It has happened a few times!

As a gesture of understanding and love, yesterday, I got these from my sister. The flower arrangement tells you something about my love of margaritas and a lot about our relationship. She is a pro and making me laugh. Thanks Tresa. You are the best.

Welcome to My World!

My three youngest at their funniest. The boys love to fight and Holly loves to create - thus we have Tuesday Night Smack Down.