It's Time to Bring Back the Judgment

Remember me telling you about my friend whose husband moved out a few months ago so they could "work" on things?  Well, shocker of shockers, he was having an affair.  My friend is crushed, devastated, heartbroken, and left to pick up the pieces of her and their children's hearts.

Am I being dramatic?  I don't think so.  This man deserted his family.

But, G, infidelity is just a symptom of a damaged union.

True, but you know what a real man would have done?  Well, a real man would have worked like a dog to fix his marriage - but, even a grown-up would have been honest that he'd checked out of the marriage rather than put his wife through a year of intense marital counseling, letting herself turn herself inside out in an attempt to save the marriage, when he had no intention of actually fixing the marriage.

It makes me mad.  I am outraged.

Cut to a week or two after the revelation that this cad had been bedding his coworker for at least a year and I was sitting with an acquaintance who divorced last year.  I asked her about her divorce and asked if she had any advice for my friend.

She told me she had learned to not judge, that no one really knows the circumstances of what is happening in a marriage, that no one can really relate to how bad a marriage can be unless they have been there, so no one should judge how it ends or how anyone behaves.

She then proceeds to tell me that she insisted she and her then-husband go to counseling.  I know her husband.  I know that during the time they were in counseling, he was crushed, he wanted his wife back and he wanted his marriage healthy.  He was invested in their marriage.

Turns out she wasn't.  The whole time they were in counseling, she was in love with another man.  How do I know this?  She told me.

Nice.

She then told me no one can judge, that no one should judge, that no one really knows.

Bull hockey.

Those actions deserve judgment.  There are consequences for actions and some actions demand judgment.

It is flat-out wrong to violate the sacred vows of marriage.  Marriage is a commitment made before God with the words "til death us do part."  That's a forever kind of commitment.  If a spouse is literally being abused, being cuckolded, married to someone with an addiction declares they would rather have the addiction than the marriage, then by all means, end the marriage.

But.

Cheating?  Lying?  Walking away?

Those actions deserve judgment.  People are so afraid to judge bad behavior these days.  They don't want to seem "judgmental."  They might say something quietly to a neighbor, but they certainly won't say it to the person's face.

I'm just going to say it: We need to bring back some good old-fashioned judgment.  If you desert you family, your actions deserve scorn.  If you cheat on your spouse, your actions deserve condemnation.  There is no excuse for such wretched behavior.

All these things have been rattling around in my head for the past few weeks.  I'm angry.  I'm frustrated.  I hurt for my friend.  I'm incredulous that my acquaintance thinks her actions are above judgment.  What to do?

Have a symposium!  It occurs to me that the thing to do is invite people I know (either through online friendships or in real life) who value marriage to write about their experiences in marriage.  What makes a good marriage?  How does one avoid the nastiness?  What advice would they give a young couple, eager to learn how to make marriage work?

Over the next week or so, I will post the essays of my guest bloggers.  Please welcome them!  Feel free to post your comments and questions to them.  They will have the opportunity to respond to you.  I can hardly wait to get started!

~ G

How Do the Kids' Toys Feel?

Little One and I are watching Toy Story 3 again.  (Actually, she's watching and I'm sitting here on the couch writing and taking a moment to share a riveting thought with you.)

We checked the movie out from the library, so she's got a week to get in all her viewing, doncha know.

Watching the toys discuss Andy's room and being Andy's toys makes me wonder how my kids' toys feel about being in our house.  Is this a good place for them?  Do they like it here?  Are the kids good to them and do the kids use their imaginations to create a fabulously fun environment?  Do the toys feel a sense of terror and panic when I come in with the bags for donation and trash?

Um, you know, if they were real.  >Ahem<

~ G

A Tale of Fur, Couches, and Glory

We have a long-haired dog.  You may remember the drama of our receiving her into our home last summer.  Turns out she gets just as stinky as every other dog.  I mean, I didn't expect a stink-free dog, but a girl can dream.  The dream was just a dream.

She was stink-y.  Stinky.  Last night she came in the office and the kids shut her in here with me.  Seriously, she about knocked me out with her doggie odor.

You know what this means, don't you?

Bath time.

I worked last night until just before midnight and this morning Darling inadvertently woke me up, so after 5 hours of sleep, I was up for the day.  Yes, that was a run-on sentence and I could not care less so deal, okay?

The dog needed a bath and we were both awake.  The kids were still asleep.  Kinda.  Little One got out of bed, but she was tucked back in and sleeps as I type.  Amen.

Now, I don't know how the rest of the world does it, but when it's 28-degrees outside, my dog takes a shower with me.  I am not going outside with a hose, getting all wet in the dark, in the freezing cold.

So, kid toy bucket in hand, I snatched up the dog by her scruff and we took a shower.  She got clean after multiple passes with a child's beach bucket.  When we're done, I grabbed a towel and started drying, drying, drying her.  Fat lot of good it did with all that fur.

When I opened the door of the shower, she glanced back at me, then stepped gingerly out of the shower... and took off like a shot.

She made a beeline for her food bowl.  Dripping wet.

I followed her with the towel.

So there I was sopping wet in my kitchen, in all the glory in which the Lord delivered me unto my parents, woolling around a dog with an old towel, trusting the Lord wouldn't use this as one of those "the Lord has such a sense of humor moments" with my sons.  Thank God, the boys were still asleep and did not walk in on that scene.

Then I remembered a friend offered us her white couch.  It's almost new, but they're redecorating and are passing it on and she gave us first right of refusal.

I stood up in my kitchen, stock still like a deer caught in headlights - about as dressed as one, too - and shuddered at the thought of wet, long, dog fur rubbed alllll up and down the sides of that white couch.

Maybe God's sense of humor right now is shocking me with these visions of domestic havoc?

I'm going to pass on the couch.

Unless I can slipcover it.  Thoughts?

So there's the tale of fur, couches, and glory.

~ G

Dry Erase - NO!

Last week's speaker at my mom's group shared a technique for memorizing Scripture and leaving notes for the kids: Write it on the mirror with a dry erase marker.

Do you see the problem, yet?

I didn't, either.

Five minutes ago I wrote "You are loved! :-)" and drew a big square on the kids' bathroom mirror (you know, so they'll be in the "loved" box).

Beaming with maternal pride, I marveled at my handiwork and then... realized it looked like MARKER.

You know what happens when you write on a mirror with a dry erase marker when you have preschoolers in the house?

You know, don't you?

They think their markers are okay to use on the mirrors... the walls... the furniture...

Visions of a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser cleaning frenzy filled my eyes and before you could say, "we don't use markers to color the walls," I snatched up a towel and wiped away the love box.

Maybe someday the kids will get love notes from me on their mirror.  That day is not today.

~ G

Writing at Dusk

I'm sitting here in my son's room my husband's office my new office and typing away for my job.

Well, not right now, but a few second ago.  Right now I'm writing to you.

So I am sitting here by the window as dusk falls outside, considering our back door neighbors across the street, wondering if they wonder what I'm doing.  The lamp is on.  If they look out the window, they can see me perfectly in silhouette.

Suddenly, that scene in She's Having a Baby comes to mind.  Remember?  The balding, beer-belly neighbor asks Kevin Bacon what he's doing all night by the window with his hands?  Kevin Bacon (Jake, really) says he's writing a book.

Do the neighbors think I'm writing a book?

Or are so many people glued to their laptops today that I just look like everyone else?

Maybe they're just happy the kids aren't crying in the backyard and the dog isn't barking like she's on fire and that I'm not screaming like CPS-bait?

Maybe I'd rather they think I'm a genius and writing a book.

Maybe I need to close the curtains.

~ G

A Mother's Heart - Speaking the Unspeakable

Please welcome my Guest Blogger, Mama C.  She is a sweet lady and a friend of mine who has a gift for putting her feelings into words.  I asked her to share her story with us and she graciously agreed.  A Mother's heart can be fiercely protective, tender in its approach, and deeply wounded.  Mama C writes about those wounds.  And now, Mama C...

Speaking the Unspeakable

How do I write about the loss of my children? While it is an experience I share with millions of other women, including a majority of my friends, it is an intensely personal experience that I have trouble explaining even to my husband. Maybe I’ll try starting with the basics.

I am the mother of six precious babies. Three of those babies are sleeping in my bed right now. Three of those babies are sleeping in heaven. After a three year struggle to get pregnant, my first child, Baby A came into my world on October 18th, 2002. And then she was gone to heaven on November 7, 2002. Our oldest was then born in August 2003. Our second boy came along in February of 2005 and it seemed we were well on the way to the family we dreamed of. Then in February 2006 we were surprised to find ourselves expecting again. Baby S came into existence on February 14, 2006. Through many troubles, she clung to life for 17 weeks and 2 days. She was born still on June 1, 2006.

I was finally able to bring a baby girl - Baby L – home with me on May 18, 2007. Due to the strain of a pregnancy after a stillbirth, we decided to wait awhile before conceiving again. Then we were once again surprised by a blessing. Baby C joined our family on July 25, 2010. He left us, painfully, in early September 2010. Baby C was then born on October 1, 2010.

This last loss is what I am supposed to be discussing here. I am glad to share this experience because I know how lonely losing a sweet baby is. Hopefully someone who is suffering through this most terrible of all losses, the loss of a child, will feel some small bit of the horrible weight lifted knowing she is not alone.

The worst part of losing a baby is, of course, the loss of this little life for which you have so much love and had so many hopes and dreams. For me, the minute I find out I am pregnant my child’s whole life sort of flashes before my eyes. I spend days and nights dreaming about everything from those last days hugely pregnant waiting for the birth to nursing my sweet baby to chasing another toddler to playing dress up to first days of school and on and on and on. All of that, all of those moments never experienced are ripped out of your future. Along with this come waves of hormones and emotions that could fell a mastodon.

As life continues around you, you are riding these waves of grief and pain and guilt and sadness that at times allow you to float almost feeling normal and in the next moment swamp you and drag you down. It is very easy, and very common, to feel like you are losing your mind. And we mamas tend to add to it by questioning the perfection of our experience. If we allow ourselves to grieve and let our normal “duties” go undone for a few days, we privately berate ourselves for making too much of this loss that society says is no big deal. If we have a day where our other children actually make us laugh, we feel we are somehow betraying our lost child by not grieving enough.

My Baby C was born just over a month ago. I have not yet truly grieved for a few reasons. For one, the day he was born I almost died and then I spent the next week and half in and out of the hospital and doctors’ offices. For another, he was born at the busiest time of year for my work and my absences caused problems that nearly got me fired.

What kind of mother am I? What kind of mother values her own life, and her job, more than her precious baby? And yet I go on, not allowing myself to grieve because I have three living children who need food and clothes and a home. And while I cannot convince my heart yet, my mind knows that is alright because I am doing what is best for my family.

The second worst part of losing a baby is the unbearable loneliness. The world doesn’t know what to do with a mama who has lost a child and a mama who has lost a child doesn’t know what to do with the world. The people who love me want so much to help me but haven’t the faintest idea how. Most of them just end up handling me with kid gloves like I might explode at any moment. Others act like nothing happened.

And still others try to help in the worst possible ways. Like my dear wonderful boss who wants to help me lose weight so I won’t lose any more babies not realizing that by doing so she is saying that it is my fault that Baby C and Baby S and Baby A died.

And I am just as schizophrenic in my handling of the world. I so desperately want to talk about what happened because that is how I get to hang onto my babies and be their mother. But I don’t want to burden anyone so I try not to let on when I am feeling raw. I need help because I still am physically weak, but I know everyone else has their own trials and they don’t need my burden added to theirs.

And on another level, I know that society considers miscarriage to be a minor matter and a “modern” woman should barely miss a step when it occurs. This leads to women not discussing miscarriage and so I feel like I cannot be open about my loss for fear of hurting someone who has lost a baby and still carries grief she was never able to express.

Losing a baby, even very early on, is a devastating experience. The degree of that devastation varies from woman to woman and from loss to loss. It is unsettling and overwhelming. You feel sad and crazy and everything in between. If you are a mama who has lost a baby, at any stage, be kind to yourself. However you grieve is how you are supposed to grieve. Whatever you feel is how you are supposed to feel. If you need help, ask for it. Your loved ones want so much to help you; give them the chance. You spend the rest of your life taking care of others; this is one time in life where you need to allow yourself to be taken care of. And remember, you are not crazy and you are not alone. Find someone who understands where you are coming from. There are many groups online where you can tell your story and be understood by women who have been where you are.

If you love a mama who has lost a baby, at any stage: talk to her. Don’t let her push off your concern. Don’t let her hide her feelings. If she has other kids, help her care for them. If she doesn’t have other children, help care for her. She is as unsure how to act as you are. Even if you are uncomfortable, take the burden off of her so she can sleep if she wants or talk if she wants or play with the kids because other mama concerns like laundry are covered.

Time will not heal this wound but time will bring a new normal. Until then, love goes a long way.

~ Mama C

So Charming of Me

How charming of me to leave you for several weeks with that odd dream posted.  Nice, nice work there, G.

My laptop died on Saturday, Nov. 13.  I'm here to tell you laptops do not like tea.  They just don't.  Just a friendly PSA from me to you.

The laptop came home from Best Buy (amen for buying the black tie warranty) and I had a deadline.  Then another.

The deadlines are self-imposed.  I'm actually 2 months ahead at this point, but I get paid as completed work is submitted.  I need the money.  The blog is fun and all, but it doesn't pay as much or at all as the other gig.

So, I'm back.  But another deadline looms.  20,000+ words by Monday.  You see the conundrum.  Gotta go write.

I'll be back soon.  Promise.

~ G