How to Safely Navigate the Mother's Day Landmines

In recent years, the Internet environment has turned something as wholesome and seemingly benign as the public observance of Mother’s Day into a social landmine!  Some people feel left out of the celebration because they desire to have children, but have not been thus blessed.  Others may have children, but have not been appreciated to the extent of all those who have posted all over social media the Mother’s Day swag they scored and are saddened at this display.  There are those who admonish everyone else for the insensitivity of mentioning the actual mothering of children as a prerequisite for being honored on the day.  And, God help pastors if they hand out – or don’t hand out – flowers at church!

It makes one’s head reel!

While this seems all wrong, you may be surprised to learn that the celebration of Mother’s Day in America has been fraught with problems since before its inception!

Mother's Day Proclamation

When it was proclaimed an official U.S. holiday by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914, it had already been tried, but failed to catch on, in various permutations, connected with anti-war efforts, caring for the ailing on both sides in the Civil War, and in connection to the temperance movement.*

The presidential proclamation actually only requires that government buildings display the U.S. flag and encourages us all to do so at our homes “on the second Sunday in May as a public expression of our love and reverence for the mothers of our country.”  So, really, moms, if you’re expecting more than a flag hoisted in your honor, you may be setting your sites a bit high.  

The person credited with making this thing finally go big is Anna Jarvis.  Even she gave no credit to the previous attempts to put on the books a day to recognize mothers – outside of her own mother’s work.  Her mother was one of those activists who had promoted associations of mothers in anti-war efforts during the Civil War.  But it was Jarvis whose long efforts and tenacity firmly established the practice in West Virginia, Philadelphia and New York.  The idea took hold in all the states and then she focused on the federal government for official recognition.  She succeeded in getting it to be a national holiday.

She favored the wearing of a white carnation by all Americans in honor of the day, or mothers, or her mother – but white carnations.  Because that was her mother’s favorite.

Well, American florists had a ball with this!  But it also put terrible pressure on them to provide the flowers.  The landmines began to detonate almost immediately.  Florists promoted the wearing of red carnations if your mother was living and white if deceased.  And for those who wanted to thank their mothers, but couldn’t get up the energy to actually write a letter to good old mom, as Jarvis suggested, the greeting card industry was there to help!  

Jarvis was so distraught at the commercialization of the holiday that she spent the rest of her life lobbying to rescind Mother’s Day.  Well, the rest of her life until she was committed to a sanitarium, which was paid for by the floral and greeting card industries.  Decent of them.

What I do admire about Anna Jarvis is that it was her own mother she wanted to honor.  She herself never even had children!

1915 postcard from Northern Pacific Railway

How then are we to celebrate Mother’s Day?  It seems like anything goes, really.  Fly a flag, wear a flower, go to church, take her out to eat!  And keep in mind, for when it happens to you, that protesting how someone else celebrates is standard operating procedure!

So, this is what I think about celebrating Mother's Day.  (Duck and cover, right?)

Protesting other people enjoying Mother’s Day because it rubs it in that you’re not a mother is a bit, well, self-centered.  While saying this, I’d like to add that I truly do understand the longing to have children and enduring unwelcome years of the lonely single state.  I have experienced the inability to bring desired babies into this world.  And have suffered the loss of pregnancy and the feelings of failure and desperation that accompany it.  Now that I've got them, I'm not convinced I'm very good at it, either.

Showing off how appreciated you are by your awesome family for being such an awesome mom - or protesting that other moms thus show off is a bit, well, self-centered.

 I’ll go further than that.  Focusing on being a mother on Mother’s Day is also a bit self-centered.  It’s not really about us.  It’s about them: our mothers – and we all have one.  If we’re alive, we have a mother.

I recall my very first mother's day, when it occurred to me that it was now my day, too!  But, mostly, as I sat holding my two-month-old firstborn, I was overwhelmed by gratitude for my own mother and all that she had done for me!  More than ever before I appreciated her!  And that is what I ought to do on Mother’s Day: appreciate my own mother!

Me with my Mommy!  I still feel this way about her!

I think with embarrassment about those times I was caught up thinking of how my family ought to honor me on Mother’s Day, all the while forgetting to show the appreciation and honor I do actually feel for my own wonderful mother!  Mea culpa!

By all means, receive the appreciation lavished – or dribbled – on you by your own children (or spouse), but let them worry about that.  Focus your energy and preparation on your own mother!  Write her an actual note of thanks and love – or buy her a card if you prefer (I won't call you lazy like Anna Jarvis did!).  Your words of thanks, love an appreciation may mean more than any other gift you can give her.

Whether you are blessed to have her still living or she has passed on, do pray for your mother.  If she was a rotten mother, she may need it more than you know.  You can have a Mass said for her; she will appreciate that into eternity.  That is my favorite gift to give – and to receive!

I like to request Masses through the Capuchin Mission Office (www.SeraphicMass.org).  You can easily make your request at their website (at any time of day - or night!) and even request a date.  They will even send a card for you.  What's more, they do a special novena of Masses just for Mother's Day.  I’m sure there are many similar sites.

It is true, not all mothers are motherly and deserve appreciation, but the vast majority of us have our mother to thank for our life and the fact that we are here today.  Your mother may be the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who adopted you, your single father or another person who showed you motherly love.

In some unfortunate cases, a mother was not what she ought to have been and thinking of her only brings sorrow.  This would not be so if motherhood itself were not a great good of which we have many expectations.  If this is your situation, you might be comforted to reflect on the words of Jesus to from the cross to the beloved disciple: “Behold your mother” as He entrusted us to the care of His mother and her to our love (John 19:26).

Whether or not there is an earthly woman you wish to honor on Mother’s Day, you have a most perfect mother in the Blessed Virgin Mary.  May her prayers and example lead you to the One who is the true source of all life and happiness.

I'll end by following my own advice.  Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  Thank you for all you are and do!  I love you!

*  I have gleaned all my information about the origin of Mother’s Day and Anna Jarvis from Wikipedia’s entries on Mother’s Day (United States) and Anna Jarvis.

Not Heroic; Just A Parent

My son has special needs.  In particular, he has Trisomy 21 and Autism.  So, it's obvious to everyone around that he has special needs.  He's a great kid and we like him - even though many things are more difficult with him along, which he almost always is.  This is not one of those blog posts where I'll tell you how hard my life is or what you should never say to parents who have a child with special needs.  In fact, I can't think of a single occasion when people have been anything but nice to us when they see us struggle.  People are just so darn nice!

Maybe too nice, but I'm not going to complain about that!  I'm somewhat ambivalent when people - friends or strangers - make comments.  I know their aim is to encourage us.  And I let them.  Sometimes they treat him like any other kid, sometimes they appreciate the extra stuff that his issues present in our lives.  Either way, I do appreciate it.  I am aware that my responses are often as unsure as their comments sometimes are.  I like when someone recognizes that it can be challenging - and yet, I also like when they see him as just another kid.  He's both, after all.

But, in their kindness, it is not unusual for someone to turn to us and say, "You are heroic."  Now, that's where I have to draw the line!!  I'm tempted to believe that unwarranted compliment - but the truth is, I'm just being a parent.  Even if there are parents who, out of selfishness - or more likely fear, ignorance and bad advice - would reject their child because of extra needs, most parents who discover their child has a condition that needs extra care just step into the role naturally.

When your kid has a stomach bug, you take care of him or her.  And except for occasionally posting it on Facebook for the co-commiseration of your friends, you don't expect a medal for doing it.  It's part of the job.  Well, the same goes for my kid who has an extra set of needs.  He's my son and I love him.  I do what any parent would do.  And we all need continual encouragement while in the trenches of raising children.

He's not the only kid I've seen who requires extra work.  Some children who don't have his built-in set of difficulties provide their parents a run for their money.  Take two-year-olds for example!  Some kids are naturally more rambunctious.  Certain temperaments make some children more unpleasant to be around.  Some are simply, well, brats.  And we expect parents to step up to the plate and deal with what they have helped create.

Special needs of the kind my son deals with are becoming more and more common, but people who act the way he does are still (thank God) unusual.  And, that's why people comment at all.  We do have circumstances in our life that make things more difficult in a way that most of us would not choose.  And, because it's unusual, it can be hard for some to see that we're just parents dealing with and loving our son.  Just like they do and would.  I am aware that when someone says, "I don't know how you do it" they also mean, "I'm glad I don't have to do that."  Part of me wants to respond, "I wish I didn't either!" and part of me wants to point out that they would do it too, if one of their children needed extra care.

So, the next time you're tempted to say something encouraging to a parent with a challenging kid, go ahead! If it's me, I'll eat it up!  It may lead to lots of internal conversation and objections on my part - maybe even a blog post - but I appreciate it.  I appreciate knowing that I'm surrounded by kind and accepting people who may not know exactly the "right" thing to say.  There isn't really a right thing anyway.

Thank you for your words and prayers to help parents just doing our job feel like super-heroes.

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For . . . Jesus

Remember those bright summer days when you were a kid and the familiar jingle of music blasting through the neighborhood caught your attention?  You’d drop everything, ask your mom for money and start running or biking toward the source of the sound.  "The ice cream truck!  The ice cream truck!"  Icy cold refreshment was around the corner – literally!  

Well, when I was thinking how hard it can be for some of us to get to church to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, I thought wouldn't it be great if we could have a Blessed Sacrament truck that drove around neighborhoods, bringing Jesus to the Faithful?  When hearing strains of “Oh Sacrament Most Holy” and “Tantum Ergo” or maybe church bells, all the Catholics would run out and wave down the driver!  Moms with a half dozen little children in tow, older folks with walkers, busy business folks working at home could quench their spiritual thirst.  In some neighborhoods, the loud-speaker might blast "Gather Us In" and "One Bread, One Body," but the results would be the same.  

I can think of nothing better for one's spiritual growth than time spent in quiet prayer, especially in the presence of our Eucharistic Lord.  And yet, piling little people into the car between meal times, nap schedules, household duties, and homeschooling, keeping them seated in the Adoration chapel without disturbing the regular adorers and being able to quiet one's mind enough to actually pray, is difficult to schedule in on a periodic, let alone regular, basis!  But the difficulty in achieving it does not diminish the desire to do it.  

Truly, this could work!  I have heard of a mobile confessional in the Diocese of Lafayette, Louisiana.  In this Our Sunday Visitor article, Fr. Michael Champagne, the man behind the mobile confessional, is quoted saying, "During the Year of Mercy we want to bring the sacrament to areas where people otherwise might not be able to get to confession."  A mobile Adoration chapel would do the same!  If it were equipped with a priest as the driver, it could provide both!  It could travel to certain areas on a schedule that would allow people to have a regular adoration time, as well as stop to admit spur-of-the-moment adorers.  A small bus or large capacity van could easily be transformed with a tabernacle in the rear and seats turned around to face it.

Driving through towns and neighborhoods would not only bring the Blessed Sacrament to those who find it hard to get out, but the presence of Our Eucharistic Lord in some places, for possibly the first time ever, would certainly have unanticipated beneficial effects on those areas.  

I’m hoping this idea will take hold with someone “out there” who could make it a reality.  It may never happen in my neck of the woods, but there is surely some priest or bishop somewhere whose people need this idea.  It is my prayer that someone reading this might be inspired to offer the donation of a vehicle.  Maybe a religious community dedicated to missionary work or devotion to the Eucharist just might have what it takes to make this a reality!  If you think it’s an idea whose time has come, pass it along and say a prayer!

Who knows, we might soon be running out our doors at the jangle of Ave, Verum Corpus to spend a few minutes in the company of Emmanuel – God with us.

Wow Your Guests With A Paschal Butter Lamb - and Other Tips For An Easy Easter Celebration

When Easter rolls around, there's a lot to celebrate.  It's the biggest liturgical celebration of the year!  It is good news, indeed, that Christ became incarnate to make satisfaction for the curse of death brought on by man's sin and to restore us to true Life in God.  And, let's face it, after six weeks of some level of fasting and abstaining from the more celebratory aspects of life, we're ready for a feast.

I like to entertain to an extent.  What I don't like is for it to be hard.  No one will ever compare me to Martha Stewart - but many remember fun times at my home.  I have gleaned few tips over the years for enhancing the Paschal celebration with as little effort as possible.

In grad school, people thought of my house as a place of celebrations and concluded that I am a great hostess.  The fact is, I inherited a great house and great housemates when I moved in.  The house lent itself to parties because of it's size, layout, and history.  I had a responsibility to carry on the tradition.  All I had to do was invite the great people in and, voila!  Instant celebration!

Now that I have a family, I simply transferred the technique and picked up useful tactics along the way that spoke to me.  They mostly spoke to me about making it easy.  And that's what I'd like to share with you just in time to enhance your Easter feast with fun and as little effort as you can get away with.  Because, let's face it, if the life of the party (i.e. you) is exhausted from spending the day cooking and cleaning up, it will be less festive for everyone!

It therefor makes sense that the first step is to ensure there will be people you enjoy around you.  If your family is fun and like each other, then you needn't look any farther.  If this can't be counted on, better invite people.  Even the addition of one person will boost the atmosphere of festivity.

The next tip is to choose a cold menu.  Whether you attend the hours-long Easter Vigil Mass, a Sunrise Service or go to your normal Mass in the morning, you'll sleep in, go back to bed or return hungry respectively.  No one wants to have to cook or wait for the party to begin while strains of "He is Risen indeed!" still echo in your heads.  Think picnic foods!

We like to get a ham - spiral sliced makes it even easier!  Make salads ahead: egg salad, chicken salad, jello salad, whatever.  Olives and pickles offer picnic flair.  Have nice bread and special condiments of all sorts.  If you're inviting people, ask them to bring their favorite picnic dish.  Easter just shouts for cold dishes.  It's Spring!

Little details will transform your meal from a regular repast to a festive feast!  Make a butter lamb.  It's super easy.  You get a lamb-shaped chocolate mold, shove some softened butter in and refrigerate.  You could probably find a clay or wood mold at a swanky store for a fortune, but just get one of these cheap, plastic molds at Amazon (just put in "chocolate lamb mold")!  This little guy will steal the show.  You might need to supply extra butter on the table because no one will want to dig into the Paschal Lamb, but assure them that if they eat his flesh, not only will they have his life in them, but he will not be diminished - because you can pop him back into the mold with more butter and he will be made new again!

Roll out the traditions!  Feast days are a time for tradition.  Do you do Easter baskets?  We sort of do, but simpler.  We do a family basket.  This is where all the chocolate will be found.  Also religious items like holy cards.  Easter is not a time when my children expect gifts, so I have kept this aspect small.  In fact, the Easter basket is largely a centerpiece and repository for chocolate.

An Easter basket at our house.

Color eggs, of course!  What's more festive than colored eggs for easter?!  I have seen totorials on-line for decorating eggs using salt, shaving cream, and silk.  You could learn the traditional Ukranian method of Pysanka - those intricatly painted eggs.  But, that wouldn't be easy.  Beautiful, but definitely not easy.  Besides, you can buy lovely wodden painted eggs and bring them out again year after year!  Color your eggs however you like - who am I to tell you what to do??  We use a few simple natural food dyes to make red and gold eggs.  Red (yellow onion skins), for Christ's blood, as I remember from Easter in Greece when I was a child.  That's the only color they have!  Gold (turmeric), for the liturgical color for the day.  That and my daughter asked if we could please do another color.  Last year we added blue becaused we got a chicken that laid light blue eggs and all I had to do is boil them!!!!  That sure made it easy!

Step up the festivity with fun.  Have an Easter Egg hunt!  I have seen all kinds and different families have their own traditions.  If you avoided egg hunts because it seems like too much work, just do a simple one!  Hide the eggs in one or two rooms in your house.  After the first hunt, the kids will probably take turns hiding them again and again for each other.  That takes care of them for a while!

Your egg hunt needn't be this big!

Have you ever heard of confetti eggs?  I remember these little treasures from when I lived in Greece.  They are emptied, colored eggs the purpose of which is to whack on someone's head letting fly a shower of confetti!  And I found them at the local Wallgreens!  They are labeled in Spanish as cascarones.

You can make your own if you like that sort of thing.  Make a hole in the end of the egg and empty the contents into a bowl (use for baking, or scrambing!).  Rinse and dry the eggs.  Dye them however you like and dry them again.  Fill with confetti and glue a square of tissue paper over the open end.  Ta da!  Or, you could just order some at an exorbitant price from Amazon, using my affiliate link here.

I have heard of people filling them with bird seed and doing them outdoors.  Well, I have no problem with breaking them indoors.  Sure there's confetti all over the floor - so what?  It's not like it's glitter.  It sweeps or vacuums up easily and I kind of like the festive look of confetti on the floor.  It reminds me for weeks that while Lent lasted forty days, Easter lasts for fifty!  Take that, Death!

One area I might put a little more effort into is dessert.  Since I'm not knocking myself out over every detail, I have the time energy to make a special dessert.  I love dessert.  And, after weeks without, I look forward to several varieties of deliciusness on our table!  It needn't be complicated, though.  It's okay to buy something from a bakery.  One of my favorite Easter guests does not consider it a feast if ice cream is not involved.  What could be easier than ice cream?  She will be invited again and again!  Oh, sure, you could make your own ice cream, but then you wouldn't have time to make this beauty!  It's all about priorities.

Lemon, Ricotta and Almond Flourless Cake from Cakelets and Doilies

I hope your celebration of the risen Christ brings life and joy to everyone in your home, however much or little effort you put into the details.  One last tip to add ease to the feast: prepare enough to last at least a few days into the Easter octave so you can take a few days off cooking!  Have a happy Easter!  Christ is indeed risen!

The Agony In the Playground

The playground isn’t my favorite place.

I haven’t always felt like this.  I used to love going there – when I was a kid.

The best was when my Uncle Don would take a bunch of the cousins.  He’s a big strong, fun man and playgrounds still had merry-go-rounds.  Well, just picture him pushing it at about 60 mph, kids hanging on for our lives, legs flying out, screams of delight (and fear).  Man, that was fun!

I also remember swinging as high as possible – hoping I wouldn’t actually go over the top – and then jumping at the zenith of the upswing.  Good times.  No bones broken.

On the way home through the neighborhood, Uncle Don would, at our request, shift the car into neutral and coast until the car ran out of momentum and came to a stop.  Then the kids would all jump out and push it home.  Those were the days!!

I don’t really remember playground times with my mom, but I’m sure there were some.  There must have been.  And I think I know why.

Well, since becoming a parent myself, time at the playground has lost some of its sparkle.  Okay, all of its sparkle.  It’s not even that busy-body mommy bloggers are berating my type on line for opting to watch my screen rather than my kids.  I don’t even have a smart phone.  But, yeah, I’ll talk on my flip phone if I can find a friend who happens to have time to escape her kids right then.  And, yes, knowing this discussion is out there does add a dose of guilt to an already loathsome activity.

What’s to like?  There are only so many pictures of happy kids with brightly colored plastic backgrounds you need at each age.  That moms take pictures of their kids at playgrounds is probably just another indication that everyone finds a playground an excruciating place to actually spend time.  If you’re not a kid.

It’s not that they’re too dangerous (though, I do have to watch to make sure they don’t do something that might result in death or injury), or not dangerous enough for proper development (see the above parenthetical comment).

Maybe it’s because I go there hoping for a few minutes of kid-bliss to give me time alone in my head – and then they say, “Mommy, look at me!” or worse, “Come or push me!”  I was really just hoping to be left alone for half an hour.  And I can’t shout, “Just leave me alone for a minute!” because it’s public and who knows if a busy-body mommy blogger is there (or one of her disciples)judging me. 

It could be that I don’t want to see another mommy there who is itching for adult company and feel obligated to engage in small talk – or, the alternative, mutually pretend you don’t see the other as our kids are becoming best friends.  No, that’s not awkward.

And then there’s the fact that I’m not in my twenties – or thirties, or forties – like all the other mommies of kids the age of my kids.  I’m old!  When you’re an old mommy, you’re supposed to be a trough of wisdom and good example, right?  But I’m not, because this is not my twelfth child.  I only have two.  No, I’m not her grandmother.  Leave me alone.

And when you have kids at the playground, one of them is going to need the bathroom.  You know how sanitary public bathrooms are in outdoor venues!  If there happens to be another mom in there, it’s a chorus of “Don’t tough anything!”

Someone’s going to be thirsty or hungry, too.

And it’s always too hot.  Or too cold.  Except when it’s really beautiful out.  There are those times too.  And those moments when your child is really, really happy just swinging.  The laughs at being pushed really high.  The smile because we're out somewhere that was made just for kids.

I suppose that’s why I still take them.  Mommies make sacrifices - big and small - for their children.  Now, if only their uncle lived locally enough to help them make enduring memories of the best kind of dangerous fun!

The reasons I go to the playground anyway!

I Didn't Realize They'd Be NAKED!!

While in college, I took a studio art course each semester just for enjoyment.  I don't have a lot of natural talent, but it appeals to my introspective side.  I generally followed two principles in selecting which course to enroll in.  First, I stuck with beginner level courses, which led to choosing a wide variety of methods and media.  Second, I learned early on only to sign up for classes that began after 9am (I am not a morning person).  This system led me to sample watercolor, screen printing, intaglio printing, design and other various various art techniques.

When I signed up for "Life Drawing," I looked forward to going out around the beautiful campus of UC Santa Barbara to take in the living scenery in this beach community.  The first classes entailed staying in and exploring light and shadow while drawing cubes and spheres arranged on a table central to all the students' easels.  The professor often referred to "when the models are here."  I was confused, curious and a tad disappointed.  Were we going to draw scenes from little models of buildings maybe?  Were we ever going to go outside and draw real landscapes?

Yes, I was a complete novice.

It slowly, very slowly dawned on me that the models were not going to be little buildings, but live people.  Models.  Ooooooh!  And it slowly, very slowly dawned on me, with a growing sense of dread and panic, that the models were not going to be wearing any clothes!

I was a "slow bloomer," shall we say (people often did).  Geeky, nerdy, whatever.  I was the kid who risked ridicule to change into my gym clothes in the bathroom, rather than in the open girls locker room, both in public junior high and in a Catholic girls high school.  You could call it natural modesty, some may call it prudery (probably those whose ridicule I was most likely to be risking would call it that).  I was just young, and shy and still maintained that sense of wanting privacy from everyone while changing clothes.  And I wanted the same for others.  I was not even from a home where people made a big deal about the virtues of modesty and purity.

Even by college, I was still mortified at the prospect of having fully naked people stand before me to be drawn.  But, what could I do??  I was enrolled in the class I needed the credits, the day of unveiling was approaching, and I did enjoy learning to draw.  I realized it was an opportunity to mature in the area of professionalism.  I don't mean I decided to become a professional artist.  I decided that the ability to look at the human body uncovered without undue embarrassment, discomfort or titillation was a skill that should come with growing up.

Painters and sculptors throughout the centuries have honed their talents while gazing on the human figure without lust creeping in.  Art connoisseurs and museum patrons by the hordes have appreciated the nude works of the masters without giggles and smirks.  I do not doubt these works have elicited snickers from adolescent museum guests through the years.  Generally, this is unsurprising when it occurs in children, but is considered immature and in bad form when an adult responds thus.

Michelangelo's L'Uomo Vitruvian

When the disrobing occurred in my class in the third week, I also learned that it is possible to sketch a body without focusing unduly on any details that did not warrant focus.  I was indeed relieved that I was able to rise to the occasion.  After all, life presents nakedness, and if I was going to be a grown-up, I was going to have to put on my big girl panties and get used to it.

We expect grown-ups to be able to see body parts that are usually hidden without animal passions taking over.  We expect grown-ups to know there is a time and a place for exposing them.  It does not benefit the medical professional or the patient if prudery or titillation enters into a doctor visit.  If I should happen to be on the scene of a disaster or extreme poverty, I don't want a person's nakedness to deter me from helping, lest my "modesty" or theirs be compromised.  In fact, my response of respect, rather than shock, can protect their modesty.

Likewise, of course, being seen naked is not the same as putting one's body unduly on display for the purpose of attracting interest.  Unduly, because, attracting a mate does inherently involve our body.  We smile, we dress ourselves in a manner we think is attractive, we stand a little closer.

And, of course, there are times when we must be comfortable being seen in a state of undress by someone we don't know intimately.  When I gave birth, I uncharacteristically did not care how uncovered I was before a roomful of total strangers.  It would not have been an easy job to complete if I had been very concerned!  Especially with my first child when my arrival in the delivery room was recorded as being eleven minutes prior to the time of birth of my baby!

Virgen de Belen by Marcellus Coffemans

That semester, in addition to marginally improving my drawing skill, I learned that sometimes modesty means not flaunting what you've got and sometimes it means not making a big deal about some of the incidental nakedness in life.

Maybe that's why they called the course "Life Drawing" and not "Drawing Naked People."

Here is a sketch from that Life Drawing class.

Why Dad Should Never Babysit the Kids

Dads should just never be asked to babysit the kids.

It's not because dad is not competent.  No, he's able to do all the things the kids require, even if he has to use the trial and error method to figure out what seems obvious to mom.

It's not because dad doesn't really want to spend time with the kids.  He loves them and will enjoy time with them - and they'll love that special time, too.

It's not because they won't have fun.  They'll have fun - and mom may come home to a disaster of Fun Mess.

It's not even because mom might return to a chorus of little comedians telling Dad Jokes (though this might be worthy of consideration).

The reason dads should never be asked to babysit has nothing to do with dads.  It's simply because it's the wrong word.  When the kids are left in the care of dad, it's called parenting.

It's babysitting when you ask someone else to look after your children, who doesn't have the inherent responsibility of caring for them that parents have.

This was drawn to my attention by my friend Janet over a dozen years ago when my eldest was a baby.  In response to my comment that my husband was babysitting, she quipped, "That's not babysitting; that's parenting."  And I've never forgotten!

Of course he's not babysitting!  It seems so obvious when you say it like that.  When dad walks out the door to work in the morning, no one thinks mom is just babysitting during the day until he comes home.  Parenting is a team sport.  They both took on the responsibility when they welcomed the children into existence within that family setting.  It's what makes the whole group of them a family.

There are a great many things that are much, much more difficult for single parents (whether they are widowed, separated from a spouse or unmarried) than for families where both parents are present together.  These parents can, of course, do a fantastic job of raising their children, but it takes a lot of support.  It's not the ideal.

When the family is intact (mother and father both in the home raising the kids) it's still hard to do some things.  If they both see the job of parenting as theirs together, not just the mom's, they will work together to see that the children are cared for and each parent is also able to do the things that help keep them functioning well.

When parents see the job of parenting as primarily mom's - dad being an occasional "babysitter" - mom's needs can be overlooked a bit.  Some things are just harder to do with a baby or several kids in tow.  How does a mom get real exercise, have prayer time, read a book, maintain friendships give blood or a myriad of other pursuits necessary to personal growth if she is literally never alone?

One small thing we can all do to support families is to just stop saying dad is "babysitting" when he's alone with the kids!