A Note On Halloween Costumes: Let It Go.

If your child says “I want to be a Disney Princess”, and you tell him or her they can’t because of their race, you are the problem. You are a broken, sad, possibly confused person, who has utterly lost the plot. 

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Bless their hearts, some people are just born to suck the fun out of everything. I don’t know if God didn’t give them a sense of humor, or if they feel so guilty about something they’ve done in the past that they left their sense of humor behind, but oh goodness. These people are like black holes of emotion, sucking in everything innocent, happy, and joyous.

Like this poor dear, Sachi Feris, who wrote a piece about why her five year old daughter can’t be Moana. (spoiler alert, it’s because the little girl is white.). It’s on the blog  “Raising Race Conscious Children”. I tend to hate things like this, because they ultimately boil down to overly complicating race issues for children, shoving the horribleness of the world down their throats way too young, and/or possibly teaching little white children to be ashamed of their skin. Bravo, you joyless harpies.

If your child says “I want to be a Disney Princess”, and you tell him or her they can’t because of their race, you are the problem. You are a broken, sad, possibly confused person who has utterly lost the plot. Your crappy opinion makes the world a worse place for children.


You’re also – inadvertently or not – teaching your children that there are limits on what they can do, and enjoy, because of their race. You’re literally teaching them to put people in boxes based on race. Shame on you.

In the same way that Evangelical Purity Culture teaches women their value is in sex as much as Cosmo and Hollywood do, this particular brand of “Racial Awareness” teaches racism.

I understand that “race consciousness” is your gig, but your child is innocent, and her mother, of all people, should respect that. She’s a baby. She gets one Halloween to be 5 (or 6, since she wanted to be Moana next year) and you’re just teaching her she can’t, because of her skin color and your personal online branding. She doesn’t need to have her head filled with this crap. Are you going to tell her to go up to non white Rapunzel and complain about cultural appropriation of Germanic Fairy Tales? No, because that’s awful. Are you going to tell the mother of that non white child to consider not having her be Rapunzel? No, because that makes you a twat.

Why on earth would you do it to your own child then? You’re her mother. You’re her natural “safe space”, her defender and protector, and you’re talking down to her, limiting her, telling her to dream smaller, because of her race?

You probably give out Dental Floss on Halloween, too.

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Let me pause here to say I read the author’s entire post. I read a few of her other posts. I completely understand where she’s coming from, to the point that in a conversation with my Republican Husband I can argue her point of view.

I just think she’s wrong, unintentionally (?) mean spirited, and laying her daughter’s happiness at the alter of progressive political correctness.  But the more I look through her posts, the less surprised I am by that.

If you read the article she wanted her kid to be Moana’s sister, which makes no kind of sense when you break it down, because Moana’s sister would still be…wait for it.. Polynesian. The poor girl who wanted to be Moana isn’t even completely white, her dad is from Argentina. Oiy.

She also wrote a blog post with this title: Telling My White Four Year Old About Alton Sterling and Philando Castil (“But they (the police) don’t hurt White people,” my daughter digested and confirmed.” Statistics argue otherwise, but what are facts in the land of feels?) Other posts about how she dragged her children to anti Trump protests (I don’t believe in using children as a political prop, which is why my kid won’t go to political outings with me until she has an opinion of her own), and teaching her child about dissent on the 4th of July, instead of, you know, teaching her about how kickass this country is and how awesome it’s various cultures are, regardless of who’s president.

SHE’S FOUR. Why are you telling her about murder? Why on Earth?! My kid is almost three and I won’t let her watch the movie where Ariel’s mom doesn’t come back because she’ll have nightmares. Have you no respect for childhood? Good Grief. Sweet Baby Jesus, what is wrong with you? Are your children people, or props for your branding and tools to achieve your version of social justice?

YES these things matter. YES raising aware children and having the conversations with them to help them processes these big, awful things, matters. But at four? Really? The line is like ten feet behind you, lady.

Since the child’s father is from Argentina, she suggested her being Che Guevara. This Che Guevara:

 quote-the-negro-is-indolent-and-a-dreamer-spending-his-meager-wage-on-frivolity-or-drink-the-che-guevara-71-66-38

Alright, being honest here, I probably wouldn’t let my kid be Che Guevara.


Guys, there’s a line. We can have conversations about culture costumes (and yes, there are two sides to that conversation. One of them has a sense of humor), but there’s a hard line that most sane, kind, reasonable human beings from all political parties agree on, and that line is Disney.

There will be Black Elsas and Annas this year. There will be Asian Belles. There will be White Tianas and Moanas, and somewhere, a little boy is probably going to be Cinderella. I know of at least one adult Hispanic Marry Poppins happening this year and she’s gonna be cute as anything (I’m so excited to see her costume) Disney characters are all about being brave enough to be who you really are, working for what you really want, making your dreams happen. Wearing an awesome dress. 

Even if you’re _________.

My little white kid wanted to be Princess Tiana. Because Tiana “makes doughnuts and soup and does her chores and sings”. Quite frankly, these are amazing qualities to emulate, and good reasons reason to be Princess Tiana.

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Your flipping five year old is not trying to “appropriate” Polynesian culture or assert the “power of her Whiteness”. She’s a little girl, who thinks Moana is cool. LET HER BE INNOCENT WHILE SHE CAN. Let her not blink at whatever race being whatever Disney character. There are some things that our children don’t need to be aware of RIGHT NOW. I would go so far as to argue that it’s our job as parents to protect them from some of the ugliness of the world until they’re mature enough to process it. Racism is one of the biggest uglies in the world. Telling your child “You can’t do X because of your race” is a wholly inappropriate way to go about helping them process the ugliness in the world.

A conversation of “You can’t do this because your skin is X and your culture is Y” is not an innocent conversation to have with a child that just wants to be her favorite flipping princess. Limits because of race are not okay. Limiting a child’s imagination and super important pretend play because of their race is just wrong.

The world would be an awful place if we all stayed within our own culture. How much art would we miss out on without appropriation, how much beauty? How much personal growth would we lose if we didn’t poke our nose into other people’s ways of doing things, and let it teach us?

Let kids be innocent. Black Elsa isn’t “Black Elsa” on Halloween, she’s just…ELSA. Let it go, guys. Let it go.

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This is President Barack Obama about to give candy to a Black Princess Belle. He’s doing the right thing. Be like Barack.

Dreaming Update…

I went to a playdate yesterday at the church we’ve been going to but are not members of. Met some other cool moms. They were impressed with my garden. My garden that I’ve been lamenting to my husband and God all week about being discouraged about. I’ve been questioning my entire life – why garden? It’s not GREAT, everyone else’s is so much better! Why blog? My blog is tiny, no one reads it, and my writing is crap! Every one else’s blog is so much better!”

Funny how we see things, isn’t it? I watch all these youtubers and I think “YOUR GARDEN IS MAGICAL” and mine is…not dead yet? My “this doesn’t even count!” is someone else’s “Wow, you can do that? That’s so friggin cool!”.

Note to self: Don’t disparage the work God is doing in your life or your garden because it’s not done yet.

Also, making mom friends. So weird. Nice, but weird. Apparently I’m still ten years old and awkward in my head. As one other mom, who I found TOTALLY AWESOME and cannot for the life of me remember the name of, commented on. We’re all still awkward tweens inside.

I said update, so here’s an update. I present to you, our June 1st 2017 Harvest:

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Edit 10/18/17: That mom’s name was J and we’re actual friends now. Whee!

Balancing the Frump

Hey Stay At Home Mom (or Dad), can we talk?

You, sitting there in your yoga pants or ratty cargo shorts, in a sports bra and a shirt with mysterious stains. You ladies who live in the “mom uniform” of unwashed hair, yoga pants, and a sports bra day in and day out, can we talk?

Go take a shower, wash your damn hair, exfoliate your face, and put on mascara. 

I get it, we have mommy wars about everything, and at this point it’s weird bragging from some sects to talk about how long it’s been since you showered. In fact, one famous “mommy blogger/writer/tweeter” has made her career about how hard it is to be her and have children and do basic things, like dress herself and feed them. While she’s sometimes funny, after awhile she’s just depressing and nasty.

Yeah, I said it. I don’t like her. I think her children will one day read her stuff and be heartbroken and have serious issues. I cannot fathom why she recently got divorced, or why if basic life things like showering, eating and dressing are so difficult, why she had any children much less several. It’s one thing to show solidarity with moms who are in the weeds, to say “hey, it’s real, I’ve been here too, you aren’t a failure”. It’s another thing to glorify it and make it the norm, though.

(And I know I know, don’t judge. Fair point. But this lady is just glorifying being damaged, and damaging yourself further, and having no self respect. It’s not cool.)

Not showering is not normal. Never putting on makeup, if you wore makeup before kids, is not normal. Regularly wearing clothing that you wouldn’t mind getting ruined out in public all the time is not normal. Not caring about yourself and your appearance and your hygiene is not, in fact, normal. It’s a sign you’re out of balance, or that you’re depressed. 

So can we please stop acting like the “Mommy frump” is normal and okay, instead of a sign that we’re having a bad week?


I didn’t realize, personally, how  bad I was doing after my daughter was born, until I looked at my makeup bag when she was around 5 months old, and I realized I was so out of practice that I was actually afraid of putting on makeup.

I didn’t feel like myself, I wasn’t doing things *I* did to care for myself in my life before mommyhood, and that, I realized, was part of my problem. 

I love makeup. I’m good at makeup. To go out for tacos with friends usually takes me about 20 minutes on my face, and this amount of product(s):

TheMagicsInTheMakeupI like makeup. My husband courted, won, and married a woman who takes care of her hair and skin, and wears makeup. And he likes it, a lot. Your thing might not be makeup. You don’t NEED a small collection of NARS and Urban Decay to take care of yourself. It might be a nice french braid and a swipe of lip gloss, if that. It might just be being really clean and having painted nails.

Whatever your thing is, you do you. But DO IT. Don’t completely stop taking care of yourself, that’s not okay. You’re still a person, you’re still you. Being a mom adds, to who you are, it doesn’t take away.

I get it, bad weeks happen. Bad months happen. PPD is real, and it’s a fucking bitch, and if you have a breastfeeding child under 4ish months old, none of this applies to you, because the 4th trimester is just about survival of you and the tiny helpless thing you made.

But after that?

Whatever you did before you had kids, whatever you did when you started dating your spouse, you should start doing again. Even if you don’t do it as often. If you wore funky blue sparkles mascara and eyeshadow more days than not, you should at least be making the effort a few days a week. If you ran, you should go run. If you baked three days a week because that was your zen, for god’s sake, let Disney babysit the kiddos for an hour and make banana bread.

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And take a shower. Showers are wonderful. You should shower every fucking day, even if it’s a quicky and you get ten minutes less sleep. If you have room, do some stretches in the hot water. If you can’t get in a full yoga practice, you can take five minutes in the shower and center yourself. Maybe even go crazy and put on deodorant and body lotion afterwards. And a bra that isn’t just a band that holds everything down.

You will feel better, you will be more relaxed, you will be a better wife and mom, and feel like less of a failure, if you can start to take care of yourself while you’re taking care of everyone around you. You are important, you should be cared for as well. 

The reality is that if you struggle with this, it still isn’t going to happen every day. And that’s okay. But efforts should be made. For your sake, for your family’s sake, for the sake of your marriage. Living in the frump, instead of making efforts to look like a reasonable presentable human being at least half the time, is not normal. It’s not okay. I don’t know how or why we’ve made it okay. We don’t feel better about ourselves with gross hair and yoga pants on, and what are we modeling for our kiddos, what kind of message are we sending our spouse?

Frump, 1,000%, has it’s place. Messy hair, old pants, a tee shirt that’s half holes but who cares because you love it and you’re just gonna sit on the couch and marathon something that isn’t PG on netflix? This is important. Bring it. Bloat pants for when you’re PMSing? Yes please. Friends who stand in sympathetic solidarity with you when you message them and go “It’s Wednesday and I haven’t washed my hair since Saturday”? We all need them. Life happens, and when you have tiny humans sometimes it’s just herding cats.

However, this whole mommy culture, and that one horrific semi-famous mom, who says that this is normal eight days a week? It isn’t. And the glorious comfort of not giving a fuck loses some of it’s allure and therapeutic properties when you LIVE like that. There has to be a balance. And daily showering.

You have to take care of yourself, and give a shit about yourself, and that includes your appearance. At least most days.

 

 

I Don’t Want My Kid To Be A Team Player

So I’m listening to a podcast about the Seth Rich scandal, and of course there’s commentary on Hillary Clinton and Marine Le Pen, and I am struck by the inconsistencies in politics.

Then I read a blog by the current leader of my parent’s cult about the “Old Paths”, and I’m struck, again, by how “old paths” ideology is more about idolatry and legalism than it is about Christ, than it has ever been about Christ.

Feminists don’t care that Hillary has treated rape victims deplorably, it’s fine, because she has a vagina! She’s on our team! 

Marine Le Pen is a horrible person because she’s honest about religious threats in her country. It doesn’t matter that she has a vagina, she’s not on our team!


Obama sold weapons in the Middle East! Fuck him! Traitor! Muslim Terrorist! Unless Trump does it, then it’s totally cool, because he’s on our team.

They love Christ, but they don’t have the same “Standards” I do, they don’t dress the same way, they like different music, THEY aren’t *real* Christians. They aren’t on our team.

They like Jar Jar Binks! They Aren’t Real Star Wars Fans! Filthy Casuals! They can’t be on our team.

And so it goes.


There’s a balance here, as there is in most places in life. Which sucks, because black and white are easy, but balance is hard. It’s important to understand that teamwork matters, that pulling together for a common good is important. Particularly when we consider society as a whole (but society is a group of individuals so…).

It’s also really damn important to remember that your personal identity does not, and should not, come from what religious, fan or political team you’re on, but rather, those “teams” should be a reflection of your character. How have we not taught our children this? How do we ourselves forget this so often?

I see it so often – whiny college children who demand free things from other’s pockets, but aren’t giving themselves. Being a part of a “team” that cares about giving, doesn’t make them givers. Your team doesn’t give you merit and value, your actions do.

People DEMANDING others be more “Tolerant” and “Open Minded”, but refuse to even hear other points of view. To even hear them, much less consider them for their own merit, because those points of view might be from the other team. This is a real thing, by the way, and it’s called “Motivated Ignorance”. Recent studies show that people will not read news from the opposing political side, in many cases, even if you pay them. The hell? If you read The Libertarian Republic, you should also be reading Vox, and vice versa.

Christians who claim the love and grace of Christ over their own lives and sins, but judge others for things as vapid as the clothing they wear or the music the worship with. They’ve gotten so lost in their “Be Ye Separate” that they’ve completely separated themselves from the point of the Gospel, and of Christ – Levitical law is out, guys.  You are not a Good, Holy, Christ-like person because of your team. You’re just kind of an ass. You should see to that.

Serious question, adult peoples of the internet : When was the last time someone treated you like shit because you weren’t a part of their team? Was it because if who you voted for? When was the last time you treated someone like shit because they weren’t a part of your team? Was it because they did or did not like your religion? Did they say that they were or were not a feminist? I got called a Nazi and lost a few friends over the last election, simply because I voted for President Trump. They didn’t even ask why. Different team = Nazi.

I’m guilty of this. I have a very hard time with women who voted for Hilary. Not in the vote against Trump sense, which I can understand even if I disagree with, but women who wholeheartedly supported her as a candidate and think she would have been awesome. I have a very hard and have to constantly remind myself it doesn’t make them all giant hypocrites who are ignorant and easily bought. I shouldn’t think that way, but I do. Because Hillary? She pretty much the opposite of everything I believe in or find to be of value in a person. She’s not on my team. 

Do you know who you are without your “Teams”? Do I? If we strip away our teams tomorrow, removed labels we proudly pin on ourselves, what are we left with?

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How can we possibly learn to love, accept, and form deep connections with those on other teams, until we ourselves learn to be okay without being defined by our teams?

How do we raise children to be individuals, if we ourselves are not comfortable with being individuals? Do we forget to teach them that standing up for what’s right often means losing people and being mocked? Do we forget to remind ourselves?

I would really, if at all possible, like to raise my child to not be a part of this bullshit, this needing to feel like she’s a part of a self righteous group in order to feel validated. I hope to raise her to be able to be friends, close friends, with those who have different religions and points of view. I also want her to be able to look at an idea or ideology and go “Well that’s a bunch of evil bullshit” and not waver when people call her mean. I hope for her to be able to weigh those things on their own merits, and do the damn research, find the historical context, get into the nitty gritty, to not just take these things – bible verses, political ideologies, movies, poetry – at face value, but rather dig deep and fully understand them, and come to her own conclusions. Conclusions that, hopefully, because she’s done the legwork and considered all sides, she can stand confident in. Even when her protesting peers go “YOU AREN’T PART OF OUR TEAM!” and she finds herself standing alone.

HE GOT TWO SCOOPS Y’ALL

You may have heard that recently at a dinner, President Donald Trump got two scoops of icecream and everyone else got one. Aside from how I do or don’t feel about President Trump, or Soro’s and the media’s push for a US civil war, or the fact that this trivial shit counts as “news”, this is my real, honest to god question:

Did anyone else ask for two scoops? 

 

No, seriously. Did he get two scoops because the waiter was kissing his ass, or did he get two scoops because he said “I’d like two scoops please”, and no one else there could even conceive of asking for what they want. Were others denied two scoops, or have we devolved as as society so much that we can’t even ask for the ice cream we want without offending someone?

Maybe this is part of why we see Trump, and those like him, as such “babies” and “children” (actually, Tumblr told me it is). They have the audacity to ask for what they want, and unashamedly like whatever the hell they like.


President Trump likes: Gaudy ass tacky interior decor, his hairdo, being overly spray tanned, cheap fast food, well done steaks, and apparently, two scoops of ice cream.
None of these things hurt anyone else, or in any way are areflection of his personal character in either direction. And he gives not a single Fuck if you care that he likes his steak well done.

There are many reasons to dislike our current president. Some I agree with, some I roll my eyes at. In this, at least, we should all aspire to be like him. If you want two scoops of ice cream, ask for them. Give no fucks if someone finds that taboo.

Are you a person who asks for two scoops, are you a person who can’t even recognize that you want two scoops until you see someone else with them, or are you a person who judges people for asking for two scoops?

May we all raise children who are aware of themselves enough to know when they want two scoops, and bold enough to ask for them. 

 

 

I’ve got a dream, I’ve got a dream…

My husband and I have a dream. We would like, within the next 8ish years, to produce around 80% of our own food, and within 10-12 years be completely energy independent, probably via solar. A large garden to grow almost 100% of our produce (and living in the South, banana and avocado trees are possible), can and preserve both veggies and ready made meals like taco meat and black beans, raise and butcher our own hogs (and maybe a steer), and have a cow for milk. Husband wants goats, but we don’t like goat milk and aren’t huge fans of goat meat, so I don’t know why he wants them, other than because fainting goats are amusing. Husband is also very interested in aquaponics and wants to get a tilapia pond going.  All this, and a private gun range, on 10+ acres of land.

I didn’t say it was a small dream.

Simple, maybe, but not small.

There’s a lot of reasons for this, and maybe I’ll go into them at some point, but the simple honest truth at the heart is that growing things makes me calm, and pretty darn happy. It makes my husband really happy too. So we have our dream of a 10+ acre homestead. A dream I can’t even share with a lot of people I know, because they just go “That’s stupid, go to the grocery store” (thanks dad!).

I watch these amazing homesteading families on youtube – Big Family Homestead, Fouch-o-Matic,  Deep South Homestead, Hollis and Nancy’s, Justin Rhodes – and I feel like, we’ll never get there.

I feel like I’m behind. 

I look at my friends who don’t want a homestead, and they, mostly, at least own a home. We do not. Finances have been hellish for us since ten minutes after we got married until very recently. It’s just the way it goes. And yes, some of my friends are older, which I forget, and some married much older men, partly to have that insta security of owning a home and a good job. I made different choices.

But still, I feel like I’m behind. 

All my friends, literally, have two children. I possibly will not. I love my daughter with all my heart, but getting her here, during a high risk pregnancy and then having a csection, and finding out her cord was in a true knot? It was terrifying. On top of that, there are other very serious reasons I can’t go into here. I love being a mom. I’m absolutely in love with my daughter.

But compared to my friends? I’m behind. I’m half the mom they are, literally. 

 


I know that, logically, comparison is the thief of joy. I’m also pretty damn sure none of my friends think I’m only half a mom compared to them, or that I’m a loser because we still rent. But in the dark little places of my heart, *I* feel that way. I feel like I will run out of life before I get to these things I want, or that they just may be out of my reach forever, like a second child may be.

And some days, I am so consumed with this “being behind”, not just on these things, but on my writing, on spending quality time with the kiddo, on cleaning the house, on spending time with my husband, that everywhere around me, all I see is a pile of failure, of being behind, of life moving faster than I can keep up. I think of a Homestead of our own and feel like it’s an impossible pipe dream that we’ll never get to. This feeling permeates everything I do until I feel like nothing I have to offer will ever be good enough. For the people I love, or even myself.

This is fucking insanity, by the way. Were I to hear someone I cared about, or hell, even a random stranger with a small child say this shit, I’d buy them coffee and tell them to chill the fuck out.

Morning Glory


God told Zerubbabel to rebuild Solomon’s temple. It took a few years to build the foundation, and then, because of political crap, it just sat. A foundation. For 17 years.

17 years is a long ass time to be behind, guys. 

Zerubbabel was sleeping one night, or probably not sleeping, because he was WAY BEHIND ON A GIANT PROJECT FROM GOD, and God sent him a message, in the form of a terrifying messenger, as was his way (Zechariah 4):

“Zerubbabel is the one who laid the foundation of this Temple, and he will complete it. Then you will know that the Lord of Heaven’s Armies has sent me. 10 Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.”

I do not have a Homestead, but I do have a few small beginnings. I have taught myself to make bread. We eat out far less than we did a year ago, in fact I cook most nights unless it’s payday.  Later this year I hope to get a waterbath canner or pressure canner and start canning some of our own stuff. And we do have a garden. A small, stubborn, completely-above-ground-because-our-soil-is-crap, garden. It’s small, but it’s a beginning.

This is my job. Or “There are worse things than your kid being gay and maybe you should take a moment ruminate on what God calls us to as Mothers.”

My name is Elisabeth, and this is my job:

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She’s two, and quite lovely. I am blessed to stay home with her. I know moms who work outside of the house not because they have to, but because they like having a big pretty house, and spending money on shit they don’t need, and driving fancy SUVs and having fancy purses. These moms, honest to God, are stupid selfish women who are doing themselves and their children and society as a whole a disservice. If you CAN raise your own baby yourself, you damn well should, even if it means going without. They aren’t puppies or status symbols, they’re human beings and raising them well is the BEST THING you can do for the world, from a Christian or non Christian perspective, from a socialist or libertarian political view. Stay at home dads, totally cool too. Or two part time working parents. Or work from home parents. Or parents who trade off day and night shift so someone’s home with the kids. Basically, daycare so you can have nice things? You’re doing it wrong, and society needs to start judging you again. The world needs mothers who love being mothers. 

ALL THAT SAID, we (yes I am the #1 culprit) get really uppity about being Stay At Home Moms, as if, just because we don’t work outside of the house, we’re fully focused AT HOME. But are we? My husband and I share a car, I am *stuck* at home, and I find that some weeks my focus isn’t on my child and my house as much as it should be. I read too much, I work (part time) too much and let her watch Tee Tee when she asks, I get lazy about the chores because “fuck it, there will be more dishes to do tomorrow, regardless of if I do them now or not”. Which is not, you know, an amazing attitude to have. Sometimes I’ll have two days in a row go by where I don’t put everything down, sit on the floor, and focus on playing with my kid, which is shameful and frustrating. Why am I home if not to make lego trucks?

I am passionate about being a mom and a homemaker, and I often miss the mark. This is not a default job I was plopped into, this is a job I waited and worked for, and I was very open with my spouse when we were dating about my career goals (achievement unlocked: making ridiculous costume child comes up with in their own brain. 2016’s “Moo Buggy”):

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I see it in myself quite often, this idea that just because I’m AT HOME, means my heart and prayers and focus are AT HOME. But I struggle, and I fail, and I’m aware that I struggle and fail quite constantly. Sometimes I don’t put Her first, and I plan more things than I know she can handle for a few days in a row. Sometimes I just don’t want to freaking read that same owl book again or watch videos of bunnies on youtube.
I think a lot of this ebb and flow is normal, and I’m finding that even being a full time SAHM, there are no “normal” weeks. I’m two years in and just now starting to find my groove. As soon as I find my groove, I’ll lose it again, flip out, become a Llama for a bit, and then refocus on the important things in life.

A lot of what I’ve learned so far is that physically being at home isn’t enough. My heart and my focus have to be on my home and my kiddo, or I am missing the mark. 

When my heart and my focus wander, and I miss the mark, I am unhappy. My kid is unhappy, my husband is unhappy. My well of patience becomes a shrinking puddle. Part of my “job” is to remember how important my job is.


Which brings me to a question I have wanted to asked Independent Fundamental Baptist women and pastor’s wives for over a decade:

What the ever loving fuck are you doing with your families? Who sold you the crack that going to church Sunday Morning, Sunday Night, Wednesday Night, + Thursday and/or Saturday visitation, Special Events,  and “Conferences” was good for you? Or your kids?

It isn’t. It isn’t biblical, it’s modern American cult-ish busywork, and you’re paying for it with your children, and sometimes your marriages.

I know, many of you aren’t divorced, but a lot of your marriages suck. I know this, because I grew up among you and I remember it not so fondly. Or your marriage is “great”, and you are so out of touch with your children you don’t even realize that you’re losing them, don’t even have an inkling that they HATE the church-life you’ve chosen, because it’s broken their heart over and over and over. Jesus would have smacked you upside your head. Jesus hung out with whores and government officials, but he didn’t care much for the super religious. I think Fundamentalists tend to forget that, quite a bit. You’re the pharisees, guys.

I grew up under a horrible, controlling pastor who didn’t, for one moment in my memory, love me or my family. This piece of crap man guilted my mother into coming to choir practice to sing, to make him and his church look good, instead of spending her time with me and my brother. Every major holiday or birthday, my mom bought his wife’s gift and he reimbursed her. Even now, my mom spends way too much time doing random crap there, because of the expectations his reign set, and my little brother and sister in law are dragged into this (literally) ungodly, unbiblical, “LOOK AT HOW HOLY AND TIRED I AM” bullcrap. A Holy Sabbath, none of them have had, possibly ever. This pastor was vile, and a horrible example of a husband and family man, and yet, they have a shrine to him in the back of their church, because he got “numbers” on Sunday. Fundamental Christians, you are fundamentally missing the mark, and losing your children because of it.

 Sabbath is a day of rest, not a day of work, idiots. If you and your Children are tired on Sunday night, instead of refreshed and rested, you have failed the first of the ten. Sunday is not a day of work, even of “good work”. Your job as a mother, my job as a mother, is to protect my child from ungodly crap like that. And it is, most assuredly, ungodly. It has ripped apart families and stolen more joy than many can fathom. But please, keep crowing about time spent at church and bragging about your numbers on social media, that’s not a desperate cry for meaning and justification at all. 

I remember being a teenager, and crying because my mom couldn’t have coffee with me before church on Wednesday, because she had to go to choir practice, or her being harried to run the pastor’s errands every holiday. We’ve worked through stuff, we’re past it, but her devotion to Church before us, her family, was a huge issue in my life growing up and she was told from the pulpit and all those around her that she was doing the right thing, and I was just a needy troublesome child. I’d love to say this is a one off. That the busy business of church is a problem that’s strictly within my family but I know for a fact it isn’t. Churches everywhere, but specifically the cult like churches of Independent Fundamentalists in the US, are full of busy work to look good to each other and other churches.

And they can’t figure out why they’re losing young people in droves. They point to sin, to the young people, to the world, Britney Spears and that one gay neighbor they had that one time, but never look inward towards the utter burn out that the Children of families in ministry and pastor’s kids face. How have so many women, so many mothers, gone so deaf and blind to the cries, the weariness, the needs of their children’s hearts?

If you are a mother, God has called you to your family and to being a wife and mother FIRST. Things that distract you or take away from your first calling, your home, do not become Holy and Righteous just because they involve a Church.

You may teach the greatest Sunday School class, your pastor husband may have 5,000 people hear his sermon on Sunday and they all come back Sunday night too, you might pray with dozens of whores at the alter, but if you can’t see how it wears upon your children, if you can’t tell if their hearts are heavy, if you are not there and prepared and rested when they need you, if you are not a safe place for them to talk about their doubts, their lack of faith, their questions, their sexuality and know beyond a doubt they will be loved and wanted, you have utterly failed in your first calling. 

Those children have every right, every reason, to resent you and Church, and the false picture of your own version of god you have painted for them, every day of their lives. You are a MOTHER. They should never be afraid that you won’t love them, and they should never have a list of things you’ve placed before them in life, with the exception of your marriage. That goes equally for women who choose to work so they can have fancy shit, and women who dedicate their lives to a “church” so they can feel righteous.

We need mothers who love being mothers. Before they love themselves, their jobs, the other children at church, or the numbers on the bus, we need mothers who love their own children as Christ has loved us. Unashamedly, without excuse, putting nothing before our well being, and not giving a care what society or other religious people think, but boldly doing what is best for those who are under our care. What do we gain if we have thousands in church every Sunday, but we lose our own children?