I'm 100% Mom and 100% Wife--And it has to be that way

This past week, the internet exploded with two more articles in the "Mommy Wars," this time targeting women's roles in the modern American family.

This was the first article: "I'm 99% Mother and 1% Wife--And it has to be that way" in which the author, a tired mother, states why she will always put her kids above her husband (to the detriment of her marriage).

This response hit the web a few days later: "I'm 49% Mother and 51% Wife--And it has to be that way." This article was from a Christian woman who argued that in order for a family to be happy and healthy, a wife must make her husband a priority over her children, if only by 2%.

Here's my two cents:

If we are going to pursue happy, healthy, and godly relationships in our families, we need to be 100% mom and 100% wife.

Because...they are two different roles.

Being a good wife doesn't mean that I ignore my children for the sake of my husband.

Nor does being a good mom mean that I forget that I am married to a man I respect and love.

Photo by S. Carter Studios

They are two different roles, each requiring different time commitments and energy focuses.

Aaron and I talked about this issue in the car yesterday as we drove for 2.5 blissful hours--blissful because all 4 boys were strapped in their car seats and no one was crying or screaming for food (thank you, DVD player).

My husband is a math guy (it's true: he as two math degrees) and he "did the math" on the  mother/wife debate.

Aaron: Let's say you get 8 hours of sleep at night--
Me: bahahahahaha!
Aaron: I was being hypothetical. But let's just say...Then you have about 10 hours of "mothering" before I get home from work at 5. We have about 2-3 hours of co-parenting before the kids go to bed and maybe 2 hours before we both conk out for the night. 

Yeah...you're pretty much 100% mom. 

Me: Do you feel neglected as a husband? 
Aaron: Not at all. 

Of course, adding up the numbers to determine value and worth of my family roles is pretty silly.  Plus, by that criteria, the kids win and I am a sucky wife. But just because I spend more time and energy with the kids doesn't mean I don't "put my husband first."

Photo by S. Carter Studios

My relationship with Aaron is a huge priority to me, which is how I am interpreting "putting my husband first" (Otherwise, I really don't know what this phase means).

The 99/1 and the 51/49 relationship arguments pit motherhood and wifehood against each other, as if being a "good mother" means I can only toss 1% to my husband, or being a "good wife" means that I must  somehow carve out 51% of....something to my husband.

I believe this creates needless anxiety for many women: Oh no...am I prioritizing the kids before my husband? Am I more "mom" than "wife"?

It doesn't have to be either/or, 99/1, or even 49/51.

The roles of "wife" and "mother" don't need to be at war with each other.
We can be 100% mothers and 100% wives.  

Or maybe, instead of focusing on percentages and numbers, we should just focus on being the best moms and wives we can possibly be in our unique family situations.

 A few more thoughts:
~Other than the false 51/49 bifurcation, I agree with pretty much everything Ashleigh said in her article. Cultivating a strong marriage relationship is foundational for a strong family.

~I think the 99/1 mentality often results from a woman feeling like her husband is an overgrown "child" who is a burden to take care of. A healthy marriage is a partnership of equals, with mutual respect between spouses.

~Consider how silly this discussion sounds when the gender roles are reversed:
I'm 99% father and 1% husband--And it has to be that way (???)
or
I'm 51% husband and 49% father--And it has to be that way (???)

100% dad and 100% husband--And it has to be that way

Symbols of Hope: Remembering Loved Ones at Christmas time

"Here, I made you something," my husband handed me an object one night before dinner.

It was a few weeks after my miscarriage.

"Do you know what it is?" He asked eagerly.

I smiled, confused but pleased by his gift. My husband is not typically crafty person. Nor a gift-giving person.

"Uh...key chain?"

"Well, yes." He rolled his eyes. "But look at this pattern. Do you recognize it?"
 
I shook my head.

I watched, bemused, as my husband dashed through the house and found a plastic pirate doll.

"Look!" he pointed. "It's Izzy! See the pattern on her bandana?"

Source

 And then I did see and...Oh. 

 I made the connection and my eyes filled with tears.

You see, our 7 year old son named the baby we lost, Izzy, after the pirate from one of his favorite Disney shows. Before the miscarriage, I rolled my eyes at the name, chuckling and shaking my head, thinking, "I would never name my baby Izzy."

But that was the only name the baby got.

I clutched the keychain in one hand and gripped my husband's hands with the other...callused hand with strong, square fingers, hands that held me when I wept for the loss of our child, hands that wove a pink and white key chain.

"I made this for you so that you can always have Izzy with you."

My husband, like many men, didn't have many words when we went through this time of grief. He felt and grieved in his own way, a way that was different from my way.

But he made a key chain for me, in memory of our child.

It was a symbol of loss, of acknowledgment, of remembering.

Christmas is usually a time of hope and happiness for most families. But it can also be a time of grief as we remember loved ones who are no longer with us.

We bought an ornament for our tree this year--a plastic pirate doll: Izzy.

I was hesitant at first.

"It's really expensive." I told my husband as my mouse hovered over the BUY icon.

"It's doesn't matter." He told me. "Get it."

So I did. And Izzy came in the mail in a little white box and we hung her on our tree.

It's been almost a year since I found out I was pregnant: it was December 14. And instead of cradling a 4 month old baby (boy? girl?), I am hanging an ornament on our tree.

It is sobering....but, by the grace of God, not sad.

And I do not use that phrase lightly. His grace has carried me, buffered me, pushed me, grown me...in agonizing ways in the past year. 

This has been one of the hardest years of my life, but it has been one of soul-wrenching growth as well, growth that has been fostered by faith and has led to hope.

"And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;  and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;  and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our heart" (Romans 5:3-5).

I've carried my key chain this year, just as I've carried Izzy in my heart.
We put an ornament on our tree, not as a symbol of loss, but as a symbol of Hope.

Because His hope has not disappointed us.  His love will continue to carry us through every season.

How do you remember your departed loved ones at Christmas?
How do you seek hope, even in time of intense grief?

You can read more about our miscarriage journey here: 

Sweet Iz: Our Miscarriage Announcement
Miscarriage and Faith: Suffering and God's Goodness
Miscarriage and Faith: Giving Thanks IN…not FOR
Miscarriage and Faith: Walking through the Valley
Miscarriage and Faith: Searching for Beauty
Pregnancy after Loss: Survivor's Guilt
Remembering Izzy: Pledged to God

Bacon, Pumpkins and three loud boys: Our Romanic Evening

When I was a teenager and even a young married wife, I craved romance. I wanted spontaneous flowers, surprise dates to romanic locations, diamond rings and necklaces (all thoughtfully picked out to suit my taste and style), and grand gestures of devotion.

I was constantly disappointed, mostly because the rosy image of romance in my head didn't match with the every day-ness of my life as a wife and mother of three. 

I gradually loosened my clenched fingers from my "romantic ideal," and not just because my husband thinks, "Flowers are stupid. They just die. Why would I spend money on something that is going to die?!"

My romantic ideal was simply not reality. I finally learned to accept it. 

And then slowly, quietly, the reality of my everyday life became romantic. Not every day, not even every week (we don't have a "date night"), but when I began to redefine romance as intentional thoughtfulness that tells the beloved, "I'm thinking of you." 

Our Tuesday evening was going to be special because Aaron was going to carve Halloween pumpkins with our twins. They were ecstatic! 

As they gathered knives, bowls, and super-cool Angry Bird templates from the printer, I decided to start  dinner, a thrown together "breakfast for dinner" concoction. 

Aaron tuned in to his current favorite Pandora station on his laptop. 

Bacon sizzled and popped in the skillet. 

My older boys "Ewww'ed!" and "Nasty'ed!" as they pulled out the pumpkin guts. 

My baby babbled and banged a tube of lotion on his high chair tray. 

And then my husband said, "Hey, I want you to listen to this song."

It was difficult. The microwave was whirring and dinging. The "GROSS!" enthusiasm was getting more enthusiastic. But I listened as I flipped the bacon, wiping popped grease from the back of my hands. 

In the middle of all that distraction, I managed to catch the last verse of this Lee Brice song: 

She knows what a mess I'd be if I didn't have her here
But to be sure, I whispered in her ear
"You know I get sick deep-sea fishin'
And you make the best fried chicken
I got a hopeless golf game
I love the sound of your name
I might miss that old green 'Nova
But I love watchin' you do yoga
I'd take a gold band on my hand
Over being a single man
Cause honestly I don't know what I'd do
If I'd never met a woman like you."

Full Song Lyrics

I caught my husband's eye as the song played and he smiled at me, a sharpie in his hand as he drew faces on our children's pumpkins. 

I stared at this man, the father of my children, my partner and friend, while the aroma of bacon joined the earthy pumpkin smell filling our small kitchen.

Tears pricked my eyes. 

Pulp and seed were all over my floor. My baby was calling, "Ma-ma-ma-ma!" and wanting to be held. My twins started to fuss about "being done with picking out the seeds."

But I wanted to capture this moment, take a mental snapshot and store it in my memory under the caption, "Perfect Evening." 

Because it was. It was perfect, spontaneous, thoughtful. 

It was pure romance.

My husband hates Valentine's Day

Since we got married almost 6 years ago, my husband has not been shy in the fact that he thinks Valentine's Day is stupid. His argument? "I show you I love you everyday, dear, so why do I need to buy you some flowers (which will die) or other meaningless junk to tell you that I love you?" In his mind, the case is closed. Valentine's Day = overrated, stupid, meaningless.

And he has a point. He DOES show me he loves me every day. He kisses me goodbye every day even though I am usually still asleep; he calls or texts every morning just to see how my day is going; he is very affectionate and he tells me "I love you" 50 times a day.

Heck, he watches Project Runway with me without complaining. Now that's love.

So I get his point about Valentine's Day being overrated. After all, who really wants a pink plush Teddy bear  holding a sign that says "I (heart) you!" Gag. And flowers do die, I sadly must admit.

But I don't think Valentine's Day is should be ignored, even for people who do show each other authentic love every day.

Because the fact is, we get busy. Life happens. Kids "happen." We don't take the time to write romantic love notes or go on dates (I realized that Aaron and I only went out on a "date" THREE times last year...yes, year. Now that's sad).

As I perused my facebook newsfeed this morning, I saw grand gestures of romance in action: breakfast in bed, a favorite book or DVD given to one's beloved, and of course, scores of pictures of red roses.

Even for couples who are deeply in love and don't "need" Valentine's Day to "prove" their love for each other, a cultural day devoted to grand romantic gestures can be a nice reminder that "oh! We've lovers! Not just co-parents, or people-who-live-in-the-same-house-and-wish-we-had-more-time-to-spend-together."

Maybe we need Valentine's day to help us stop and do something special for our loved one.

So even though my husband hates Valentine's Day, he knows that I, well, like Valentine's Day. That's why I found this when I opened my laptop this morning.

I expected nothing and hoped for everything--and a $50 Amazon card? That's everything because even though he thinks Valentine's Day is stupid, he loves me and acknowledges and even celebrates the things I think are important. And isn't that what true love is all about?

So, go ahead. Celebrate your Love. It is Valentine's Day, after all.

P.S. Since my husband hates V-day, I have to be sneaky about doing anything for him, lest I get the eye roll that says, "Really? Really." So, I had it all planned out: I was going to stop by Kroger before I took him lunch and pick up some Krispy Kremes, a treat he LOVES. There would be NO eye rolling when he laid eyes on those doughnuts. BUT, he went to the store last night and bought himself Krispy Kremes! GRRR! Really? Really. Thwarted again in my Valentine's scheming!