Sunday, July 13, 2014

Dear Dads: Please stop doing this in front of your girls.

Hey, dads.

Hi. Lindsay here. BIG fan of yours, I really am. I love seeing you guys in the middle of parenthood. I hate the way you're often portrayed in shows- you are every bit as capable as us moms; you are loving, resourceful, and awesome. And, just being real here, a moment between a dad and his kiddo can bring me to tears faster than any P&G Olympic commerical, and trust me, that's saying A LOT.

Seriously, you rock. But, could you do me one teensy favor?

Actually, it's not teensy. It's huge.

Could you possibly stop using being female as an insult? Especially in front of your daughters?

You're probably thinking, what?! I don't do that. I'd never.

But...yes. Yes some of you do.

Maybe you call your buddy Mike "Michelle" because he missed a shot while you played hoops.

Maybe you asked another guy if they needed a pad. Or a bra. Or something other lady-girl accessory for their non-existent lady parts.

Maybe a football player on TV cried, and you called him a girl.

Do you know what you're telling your daughter?

You're telling her she's weak.

You're telling her she's the butt of a joke.

You're telling her that being a girl is an insult.

I get that this may seem harmless, but it's not. I promise, it's not.

I absolutely love that my son and my daughters are different. I'm not foolish enough after eleven years on mom duty to deny that gender does play a role in personality and preferences. But are my girls inferior? Absolutely not!

I know you love your girls like I love mine, like my husband loves ours, and I know you wouldn't hurt them for the world. But this seemingly innocuous dig sends a clear message to your daughters: you are less.

So, stop. No step-down programs, just cold turkey. Stop using being female as an insult. Your daughters will thank you.


The mother of three equally amazing kids.

Edit: Come to think of it, stop saying it around (and to) your sons, too- we don't need another generation growing up with this mentality. Thanks!

Friday, July 4, 2014

Pump the brakes.

"I'm mom-ed out."

"I understand. What can I do?" (Seriously, my husband is a saint.)

"I don't know. Nothing! Nothing really. Nothing is going to help."

"Okay, I'll take the girls downstairs and make lunch." (SAINT, Y'ALL.)

And there I sat, alone, pouting, and feeling uneasy. Uneasy because I immediately felt that nudge.

Hey, ya know...

Nope. I know nothing. It's the kids, it's not me. E is really clingy, and the bigs are just....





...okay, I guess maybe they really aren't doing anything. And E is the same little E she is every day. I am tired from making sure the big tree in the back yard didn't fall on the house through the storm (because I have superpowers, obviously), I am missing home on this holiday, and I am just in a mood. OKAY FINE, I'm a cranky mess who is behaving like a brat towards the people I love the most. Now what?

Now I fix it, that's what.

I come downstairs, I ease up. I "pump the brakes," as we say a lot here. We go to the beach, I play in the sand and the water with all three of my amazing kids. Jo on my back, we alternate between jumping the waves and diving under them. E grabs my hand and takes me for a walk to the dunes. She lays flat in the sand and tells me, "I crazy." Branden and I have a heart-to-heart with Bay about the middle school years while he buries his entire arm and the water crashes on our feet. I look at these beautiful blessings and can't remember what was so wrong two hours ago.

I would have missed it all if I hadn't listened to that nudging- I may have been there, but not really. My mood would have been the lens through which I saw everything, so it all would have been crummy. I know with every fiber of being that nudge is God, saving me from myself. Inviting me back into the fold when I get too far from my center, telling me to look at what I'm missing. It can be hard and humbling to admit that my attitude makes up so much of my bad days, but I need to. The sooner I admit it, the sooner I can change it. The sooner I can get back to the fleeting moment in front of me.

Will I ever feel "Mom-ed out" again? Probably. Definitely. But I pray next time I remember to check my heart as soon as I realize what's happening. After all, as 1 Corinthians 13:5 says, love is not irritable or resentful, and I love these kiddos with my whole heart.