Let's Call the Sheep "Baaahb" *

Let's face it: throughout time, people have held some pretty moronic beliefs about what's good for babies and young children. When you challenge these beliefs, they might protest "but my dr says...." Oh--your dr says? Well, what did drs say on the issue 10, 20, 200 years ago--and why has the tune changed each time? And why does my dr disagree with your dr?

Very few would deny that parenting attitudes, trends, and practices are in a state of constant flux, and vary widely across cultures and points in history. Yet, by raising our children a certain way, we operate under the illusion that we are doing something timeless and "natural." Nevermind that our environment has completely changed from a couple generations before; nevermind that some of these practices are obsolete, flawed, or romanticized. Nevermind that we try to conduct certain parenting aspects "naturally" in a completely unnatural environment.

One piece of particularly Orwellian parenting "wisdom" I hear, repeatedly parroted by certain parents from some nebulous, ambiguous source, is that "it's good for babies and young kids to get sick a lot, as that means they'll get sick less later on." I think this belief is worthy of being sucked down the memory hole.

Where to even begin? First of all, babies' immune systems are not well-developed, which means that they will often be hit harder by illnesses than an adult (look up RSV, which manifests itself as a common cold in adults but can be deadly in a child under 2, or read up on whooping cough or rotavirus). The only virus I can think of that's "better" to get in childhood instead of adulthood is chicken pox. Likewise, viral and bacterial infections are much more likely to also cause ear infections in children than in adults.

Let's move on to the lack of compassion humankind often has towards children. Young children who are sick cannot take care of themselves. Often they are too young to safely take over-the-counter remedies that would alleviate their symptoms. But more importantly than that, illness takes a toll on a child's ability to learn--either by lost school days, or by virtue of the fact that it's pretty hard to learn when you're feeling miserable and exhausted. The view that children "should" get sick a lot to avoid getting sick as much in adulthood says "it's more ok for children to stay home from school, and their parents to miss work, than that child take a sick day from their job later on in life."

This view also endorses complete inefficiency. Children have a lot less control over their environment than adults do. Children are often contagion super-spreaders by no real fault of their own--they put things in their mouths, do not wash their hands, and are all-around not yet schooled in good hygiene. They have limited control over the health of their diet, home environment, and the people they spend their day with. Adults are much more effective at illness prevention--and therefore, should get sick less anyway.

People play with fire when they are sick a lot. The link between viruses and other illnesses and long-term health conditions (such as cancer, birth defects, lasting lung damage, and allergies, asthma, and other auto-immune responses) is only now starting to be undersood. By viewing mass and frequent infection in our a children as a "good" thing, we are also putting others at risk for long-term health problems and even death, including pregnant women, seniors, young babies, people with chronic medical conditions, and even perfectly healthy children and adults.

It's well-established that the price of both personal and "herd" immunity is high. Yet, as the threat of diseases such as polio and measles becomes almost an abstraction, so the collective memory fades of just how many children perished from these diseases. When I lived in Nepal, people had some immunity to waterborne illnesses, right? Sure, maybe--if they survived it in infancy. "Natural immunity" means a higher infant mortality rate across "the herd." I don't think the US would like to trade infant mortality rates or average lifespan facts with Nepal. Yet, the anti-vaccine and pro-"natural immunity" crowd romanticizes the robustness of people in developing nations--without bothering to check exactly how many die of preventable diseases each year.

Finally, this belief is simply illogical. A child does not need to *be sick* in order to build his or her immune system. When I talked to my son's pediatrician about this issue, he enlightened me to the fact that all of us are exposed to germs every single day, just by breathing. Yet, each and every germ we come into contact with does not necessarily make us ill. Also, people espouse this belief seem to neglect the fact that diseases, especially viruses, mutate so that getting a cold or flu this year does not make you immune to a cold and flu next year.

Am I saying we should live in sterile isolation--of course not. I'm saying that having perpetually (almost year-round with maybe a break in the summer months) sick children is not normal or natural. When I ask people or reflect on my own childhood, previous generations of children did not live this way. Our lifestyle practices need to change in order to match our changes in lifestyle--ie, that children get a lot less fresh air, fresh food, and exercise nowadays, and spend a lot more time in enclosed instutions and large-group settings.

I suspect this segment of the parenting population is the only one on the face of the earth who think the key to being healthy in the future is to be sick now. Unfortunately, I chalk up this parenting belief to, as is so often the case, a product of the times. As more parents have either put their children in daycare, or in school at earlier ages, they started noticing that their childre were almost perpetually ill. As some parents looked for a justification for the ill health of their children, so the rise of logic that sounds intuitive, but is faulty in reality. The key to good health for people of all ages was, is, and ever will be: good diet, good exercise, good hygiene, good environment. Ok, and some good old-fashioned luck and good genes.

*I am not, nor do I claim to be, a health care professional. These are my own personal opinions, based on my own research, beliefs, and discussion with my son's dr.

And the Sins of the Fathers...

The intangible inheritance parents pass on to their children is the earliest impression of God’s character. Unfair as it may be, as big of a responsibility it is, children learn about God from the way their parents treat them—it’s no coincidence that we often perceive God as a father or mother figure. In the early years, parents are their children’s creators, providers, nurturers, caretakers, and teachers. Parents can give or take away. Their word is (usually) law and their pronouncements are judgments and decrees. Parents can be unfair and mysterious to a child, with ways that are unknown (“because I said so, and I am [God]. Who are you to question?”).

As a young child, your parent pretty much IS God—your primary example of love and relationship. The loving aspects of parenthood are a tiny slice of God’s perfect parenthood. The selfish, fallen aspects are the mark of our human, earthly status.

It took me a very long time to realize how my upbringing was reflected in my relationship with God. Having very critical, unpredictable parents made me perceive a God that was judgmental and unpredictably loving. A God who thought I wasn’t good enough—a capricious and whimsical God. This image of God was dysfunctional, and for years caused me to doubt and distrust God’s nature.

If we take a good look at how we view God, we often find that the picture was influenced by some of our earliest childhood experiences. Maybe for some of us, it felt like God was never around or emotionally unavailable. Maybe we couldn’t live up to his larger-than-life personality or expectations; maybe we never felt good enough. Maybe God was cold and distant, uncaring or selfish—maybe a user…maybe unreliable, egotistical, arrogant, hypocritical.

Only after I became a parent myself did I realize how God might really see me and How He might really Be. First of all, my son is not “perfect,” just as we are not perfect in the eyes of God. He was born with a single ventricle heart. But this does not mean I love my son any less. Indeed, children with special needs are called “special” for a reason. I won’t go so far as to say that “heart parents” love their children more than “normal parents” (after all, I wouldn’t know for sure)—but almost. I’ll stop just short of saying that. My son was born with a defect, as we are all born with the defect of original sin. I think God wants to see us succeed in our spiritual journeys all the more because of our human disadvantage.

Secondly, the life our son is living is not the life we had planned for him, much like God’s original plan for humankind is not what we are all living now. Our original plan for our son was an idyllic babyhood filled with swim classes at the YMCA, baby yoga, and travel—not open-heart surgeries, long hospital stays, and countless medical procedures. Am I disappointed in the situation? Yes. Am I disappointed in my son? No. My son's life is filled with a lot more pain and suffering than I would have ever wanted. Now I understand some of the pain God must feel at our human suffering.

Parents see their children as their most perfect creations. Parents take pride in their scrawny, puny newborns and in their eyes, these newborns are the cutest to ever grace the universe. As our children grow older, we set rules for them that they don’t always understand. Sometimes we become frustrated, angry, or hurt when they are ungrateful or when they disobey us. But we always forgive them when they truly repent, no matter how grave the offense.

So where does this “punish the children for the sins of their fathers” idea come from? Deuteronomy 5:9-10: “I do not leave unpunished the sins of those who hate me, but I punish the children for the sins of their parents to the third and fourth generations. But I lavish my love on those who love me and obey my commands, even for a thousand generations.” I’m not a reverend, but my layperson interpretation of these 2 verses is that love is the greater force here—a force that sets us free from the examples of previous generations.

Maybe what God meant was not that He would exact punishment for its own sake on a sinner’s children, but that repeating the mistakes of one’s parents is punishment enough, and is the intangible inheritance of a human primary example. It is a warning to parents that history repeats itself, and can put subsequent generations at considerable disadvantage. Indeed, to overcome the sins of one’s father or mother, it takes conscious realization, supplication, and a little divine intervention. One of my good friends mentioned years ago that only God could break the patterns families can fall into and pass down through generations, and that we need to consciously ask God to shatter the chains that tie us to our forefathers. It can be something as serious as alcoholism, abuse, depression, and abandonment to more oblique family attributes like disapproval, pride, or sanctimoniousness. Take a good look at what you’ve inherited from your family—then ask God to set you free.

Keepin' It Real in the Trenches

So, this blog is all about a little corner of momspace I've carved out for myself; thus I suppose it's fitting that this post refers to "the mommy wars." Someone I know mentioned this phenomenon to me last week, so I have done a bit of reading to get acquainted with the debate. It seems the mommy wars refer to one's decision to either be a stay at home mom or a working mom, thus politicizing a highly individual choice.

I also found that some feel the mommy wars are nothing more than a media/marketing campaign, or an intellectual debate fought primarily in the sociological realm. "Real" or not, what IS clear is that, once again, women's minds and bodies are not their own but political and ideological battlefields.

I can tell you which decision is right for our family, but I cannot tell which is right for your family. I cannot tell you which side of the DMZ you should be on. But I can, after thinking about my own experiences, tell both sides to get real.

Let's start with working moms (don't worry ladies, I will get to the stay at home crew too). I generally feel like Switzerland--have no real beef with working moms, and have not been targeted for their aggression either. However, let's get one thing straight: I heard a working mom state on public radio recently, "I do everything a stay at home mom does, PLUS work full time!"

I am so sorry, honey, but you are seriously deluded and it is time for you to get real. If you want or have to work, that's fine, but you must own up to the consequences and realities--and that includes the fact that you are paying someone else to care for your child for almost all his/her waking hours. Let's take a conservative commute time estimate of 30 min each way for you to get from home to daycare to work. Let's say you work the typical schedule of 8-5. That would mean you are away from home 10 hours of the day, not even counting any errands you might run before or after work, or any extracurricular activities.

That is 10 hours of the day that your home is not being lived in. 10 hours of not feeding your own baby, changing diapers, cleaning up spit up, teaching ABCs and colors, reading to your child, preparing and cleaning up after messy meals, and managing your child's daily joys and crises. Do not even tell me that you do the job that I do. Do not pretend that you can cram those missing 10 hours of heavy-duty daytime parenting into getting ready in the morning, dinner, and getting ready for bed. In the medical field, you would be an on-call doctor, not the one working all night in the emergency room--not even working at the walk-in clinic or pulling office hours--at least, not until you pick up your child in the evening.

Do not pretend you can provide the quality of care a good stay at home parent does after a long day of work. Get real and answer honestly: do you come home to read to and play with your child--or do you come home and jump into opening mail, doing housework, and checking your email? After talking with moms who have done both--stay at home and work--I have been told, "I feel guilty because when I was working, the last thing I wanted to do was come home and parent. All I wanted to do after a long day of work was sit down and relax."

Ok, now that I have offended the working crowd, let's move on to the stay at home moms. Stay at homers, you too must get real and be honest. First of all, do not act like a martyr or that you are a prisoner to your family. Unless you belong to some austere religious sect or have a very special situation (say, a special needs child who requires intensive in-home care), no one has forced you to be at home. You *can* go to work anytime you like.

Also, opting to be a stay at home mom does not automatically make you a better parent than the working one. I think all of us moms have met terrible stay at home parents, great working parents, and vice versa. Please do not pretend you deserve a medal for round-the-clock parenting if I see you sitting on the couch and screaming at your kids all day.

Finally, you do not need to pity working moms because they are our sisters who *have* to work. Many of them choose to and want to. Not everyone is cut out for 24-hour, 7 days per week mommying. And I commend them for knowing themselves well enough to do what they feel is best for their family.

After all, your kid is more likely to suffer from having an unhappy, resentful mother than a working one.

For awhile, I thought we as women could say "we've arrived" when we reached the point where we can choose to either stay at home or go to work. When no one forced us to stay at home, nor did they force us to hand over our children to paid providers and march off to work. Now I realize that I was wrong. We have not arrived.

No, we will be able to say "we've arrived" when we are both free to choose, and free to do so without guilt and feeling like we need to explain and justify ourselves for our decision.