Two Articles Provide Much Meditation

I want to highlight two recent blog posts that I think are well-written and powerful pieces which provide for good meditation and discussion. I feel like I could have written both pieces, down to many details . . . if I had more time (than almost none) and enough sleep that I could string together sentences more coherently.

Reading "Why Most Families Have Two Children" by Lindsay Boever explains the joy of getting past the hardest time of the young years (she says two children, I say three) to a large family. I know I have undergone major spiritual transformation through motherhood, and it stretches me in ways I would never consent to stretch myself if I had to choose for myself. It is very hard and sometimes very tearful, but the rewards are great. Children are such blessings from God! God's first commandment was to be fruitful and multiply!

But we mothers need help. It is totally unnatural that two parents are raising all these kids by ourselves, in most cases with the father dedicating himself valiantly to providing for his family, so by default, of course, the mother is in the trenches, face-to-face with the children, most days, all day, by herself. Gone are days of the small village, the relatives nearby, the spinster aunt or the teenage niece living in the home. Reading "Desperate Housewives--No Laughing Matter: Why Young Mothers Don't Need God, They Need Help" shows the pragmatic help we mothers desperately need.

Reality check: My counters usually look like a mess. I finally get a few minutes to clear them off, I turn around, and within no time they're covered with detritus again. With my personality, how will I ever learn to look at these messes and remain relaxed?

I spent a cumulative several hours per day just cleaning the house, yet I don't consider it 'at my standard' at all. I get to mop the kitchen floor about once per week, or less: do you know how gross a floor gets with six eating human beings dropping wet stuff on it five times per day? I think my 'standard' is still that of a single, very neat woman in law school, whose apartment remained immaculate. My standard needs to adjust to that of a homeschooling mother of four children (homeschooling being key because that means the children are always here, always making new messes, never leaving such that I'd have even one hour alone to pick up without them making new messes).

Reality check: It takes me a long time to put anything away. After I went shopping, I left the paper towels and facial tissue in the kitchen, to be put away. Of course, I didn't get to it before some children did, tearing about the tissue boxes, throwing the about, crushing one. Meanwhile, there are art supplies thrown all over the windowsill and floor. This is oh-so-common. I have boxes sitting out full of all the framed art we took down when we painted six months ago. I have a box of my mother's papers and memorabilia sitting in our bedroom . . . and she passed away two years ago.

Last Thursday morning (which happened to be Thanksgiving), I finally cleaned one of the ceiling fans, which was encrusted in thick dust from not having been wiped in half a year. John, ever my traditionalist, watched in awe and asked, "Are we going to clean the fans every Thanksgiving?" Oh my, I had to explain to the dear that ideally Mama would clean them way more often than once a year!

The patience required for this life is enormous. Tremendous flexibility is needed when plans chance (constantly, every minute). Workers in an office have breaks protected by law. Religious in convents and monasteries have prayer time, reading time, worship in chapel, sleep, and recreation all built in to their Rule and protected. Mothers? No, they are needed all the time, at all hours. I paid attention yesterday: I was awoken for the day by the baby vomiting on me at 5:00 a.m., I finally sat down for a break by myself at 2:08 p.m. At 2:09 p.m. (yes, one minute later), the toddler woke weeping and needed me. I sat down for my next break at 10:30 at night. The night that followed, I got four and a half hours of sleep, divided in two because I was up for 90 minutes with a sick baby in the middle of the night. Typical? Yes. All too typical.

Having many children? Yes, a huge blessing. I wish I could put into words the joy, the spiritual growth, the value of a new soul which will live forever. Having many children? Yes, tremendous work and we need pragmatic help.

Much to think about . . .