Holy Spirit Parenting 101

There’s been more controversy over parenting styles in the last year than the Benghazi scandal.

There’s the Attachment Parenting Style, the Hug-A-Tree-Love-A-Bunny Style of Parenting, the Authoritarian/Authoritative Style, Helicopter Parenting (I kid you not – Google it) and the list goes on. But the most controversial of all of them is the Babywise/Ezzo method of doing stuff.

The people that love it claim that it has gotten their kiddos on a schedule. They sleep, eat, and cry less. Also, the children are doing well.

The people that hate it have very, very good reasons to hate it. Some of the kiddos raised in this method have developed RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder) and have some serious consequences.

I am not doing any of these. But as someone who is a constant researcher, I have become quite eclectic in everything I do: counseling, clothing style, and now, parenting.

Please don’t get me wrong. I KNOW that I know nothing. That’s what makes this so fun. I love asking questions, and hearing the answers. And for now, what works for us is patterns, not styles.

My son just turned one month old on Saturday. His greatest accomplishments so far are that he came out of the womb holding his head up and looking around. He loves his Boppy, and loves being propped up in it so he can watch everything around him. He HATES having a wet diaper; also, changing said diaper. There’s no win there. He also doesn’t sleep for more than 30-45 minutes during the day. So, all of those people that tell you to “sleep when the baby sleeps” need a good, solid, smacking. You can’t sleep for 30 minutes and accomplish anything.

I tell my husband that I can accomplish 3 things per day.

1. Eat
2. Laundry
3. Dishes
4. Floors
5. Fold the above laundry
6. Sleep
7. Shower
8. Pump so my boobies do not explode
9. Cook dinner

I can pick any of these three, but it cannot exceed that number.

And, honestly, I was going literally insane. I was tired to the point of hallucination, and in so much pain that I could barely walk across my house. I kept thinking that I was supposed to be doing something different than what I was doing, and it was driving me crazy.

So, at one of the many 1am, 2am, 2:30am, 3:30am, and 5am moments where I found myself awake, I just started to cry, and whine. And get so angry at my husband for things he hasn’t even done yet… and cry some more… And then it hit me:

Praying, Napping, Listening intently to Jesus

Pray. Not just pray, but PRAY… Seek after His Face and His Heart. Talk to your Dad, and get HIS PARENTING ADVICE.

Maybe, just maybe, the God who gave me this gift would know how to operate it.

So, I started researching again. This time, instead of looking for “What Am I Doing Wrong?” I looked for “What Can I Do Well?” and “What Might Work for Our Family.” Not a guarantee or a hug-the-bunny-it-turns-into-a-unicorn moment. Just a guideline.

It worked.

Why was I surprised?

I was literally surprised when prayer started working. Seriously?

Something crazy started happening: he started sleeping, crying less, and eating with regularity. He was never doing poorly: he’s been gaining almost a pound a week. But I could never keep up with him, and felt like I was being dragged around by him. Now, I know what he needs before he needs it, and I feel like I know what to expect.

So, I will probably start editing the Page Holy Spirit Parenting 101 more often, just as the Lord leads, with lessons that I’ve learned as a brand new mommy. I’m sure it’s stuff that most know already, but it’s new to me. I know that a lot of this is a learning curve, and that there’s no way to research, read books, and study up on this stuff. But I’m slowly learning to ask my Dad what my baby needs. And everyone knows Dads give the best advice anyway.

We Need Another Wife

It’s a little bit of a longstanding joke in our household. I lovingly and sarcastically state that Hubs got married, then married his mistress, and keeps a couple of lovers on the side. Most of the time just because we’re out in public, and we really like to screw with people’s heads.

But it’s sort of true.

For the first few years of our marriage, Work was just work. When he first came home from Afghanistan, he was insistent on taking a job immediately – despite my pleas that it was too soon. He ended up at an aviation job on a night/overnight shift that was horrible. He’d go in around noon, and get off around 2am. I was working 8-5. So, I’d come home, clean, etc, and then go to be around 9:30ish. He’d call me when he was on his way home, and I would wake up and start making dinner. He’d get home, we’d eat around 2:30-3, and wind down for an hour or so… then we’d go to bed, so that I could get up again at 6:30-7am so I could be at work. It was killing us. He was making great money, and really wanted me to focus on my career, so I left the law firm and adapted to his schedule.

I then got my dream job, but it came at a price. Moving 1.5 hours away from any family or friends. But he totally supported me. He had gotten his old job back in the aviation industry and was at least on days. We’d both get up around 5:30, eat breakfast, and see each other in the evenings. But He was miserable; the stress, the hours, and the management had slowly eaten both of us up. It was time for a change.

Hubs has been into living history since he was a teenager. All kinds, and he was so excited when he’d have opportunities to spend a weekend getting to do something he loved. Mex-War, Civil War, WWII, he couldn’t get enough. It was his playtime, and it breathed life into his tired soul. It gave him something I couldn’t: a chance to re-live war. If you ever see him talk about History, you see him literally come alive. It was his version of dance; something he would always love to do, and couldn’t imagine not doing.

After a string of random events, he was given the opportunity of a lifetime: a part-time (yes, part-time) job at the place he literally grew up. Doing something that was literally his lifeblood. I figured I would just put in for a transfer, and we could totally make this work. He accepted the position with enthusiasm.

Then I lost my job.

It was 8 months of tension, heartache, and doing without.

It was perfect. I wouldn’t trade a day of it.

Then, by another amazing set of circumstances, Hubs was offered a full-time spot. About 2 weeks later, we were told we’d have to move off the premises. They gave us 2 months, to at least get through the holidays, and then we had to be out. A month later, I finally had a job.

But everything came at a price. Hubs had his dream job, and it still gives me such amazing joy to see him truly in his element. This is everything he’s ever been passionate about, other than the military. But all of a sudden, a stark reality hit home: all of those events that he “got” to go to for fun? He HAS to go to them for work. ALL of them. Every. Single. Freaking. One. He has to go there early to set up, teach the whole day, go to bed late, have the day for the public, go to bed late, and then drive home exhausted.

He’s married his mistress, and she’s wearing him out.

The cool part is, as his wife, I get to support him. I can be the one that gets up early, makes him breakfast, and pours as much into him that his girlfriend can’t give him. Because, just like a mistress, all she does is demand and take. More attention; more meetings; more projects; better ideas; longer hours. How do I keep up with that?

When he’s in school, it gets a little more interesting. When he IS home, his homework has to get done before he does anything else. When he’s at an event, I can help keep him organized and get together some of the research; but let’s face it here. I’m a psychology nerd. Not a History nerd. So, I did the next best thing that I could think of: I made the home as clean, safe, and comfortable as I possibly could.

Did I mention that we’ve also moved 4 times in 3 years?

I told Hubs we needed another wife. Not another mistress. A wife. Someone to do dishes, sweep the floor, and remember to pay the cable bill. OR someone to work full-time, so that I could have the time to actually keep my home working, and not be exhausted by the end of the day.

Either way, some days it feels like there’s too many women in this house. But you know what? I’M the only one he talks TO, plans with, and dreams with. And, late a few nights ago, as I was in an emotional-hormonal mess, I sobbed that I need him to talk to me more, just so I have the reassurance that he’s not discussing his future only with his mistress. My amazing King did just that; held me. Soothed my tired, hormonal mess of a soul with the best words I’ve heard all day… And then I realized, that regardless of how many priorities we have, WE are the number one priority. WE have to be.

I’m also the only one he’s taking on a damn vacation. I’ll tell you that much right now, bubba. I am amazed and humbled at how much we have supported each other through the years; mostly because we were totally without options. It’s been horrible, heartbreaking, and bone crushing exhaustion…

I still wouldn’t have it any other way.