Fair

Last night at Bible study, we stumbled upon a topic that is always tough to deal with.

Is God fair?

This question is a double edged sword. Because we are told in scripture that He is just, and in our finite human minds, to us, that should mean that He is fair. But our very definition of the word is perverted.

"It isn't fair that I have to work Saturday."
"It isn't fair that they always have the finer things in life! We work so hard!"

But then, what about those bigger issues? We still toss around that simple word, selling ourselves short of what we really mean.

It isn't fair that some women struggle with infertility, while others have abortions.
It isn't fair that some children are born addicted to drugs.
It isn't fair that some children go without food, while the parents don't go without cigarettes.
It isn't fair that right now, Melissa, over at Three Times the Fun, just had to title her last post "Three cribs, minus one" because one of her 6 month old triplets, Owen, died.

THAT ISN'T FAIR.

And it hit me really hard. Because I live in a world that cries out for equality. Fairness. We raise our kids under the idea that every kid makes the team. Even if it means sitting the bench the entire season, or cutting the playing time of a kid that actually is good so parents don't get upset. If you plan on inviting one child to a birthday party, you have to invite the whole class, so no one's feelings get hurt.

All this does is keep kids from experiencing disappointment.

This feeling of entitlement? It carries over into adulthood. Entitled to disability, Medicare, Food Stamps. Entitled to have all the best stuff, without working for it. Entitled to drive that new Lexus, even if it means going to a pregnancy center to get help with diapers. Every week.

Jails are required to have luxuries, like cable. Because that is fair.

But is it fair that someone is going without their loved one, because of a decision made by someone else?

And I've grown up thinking that God is the ultimate judge. The ultimate in fairness. But, it isn't true.

Because if God were to be fair, and give us what we really deserve, it would not have been His son. He would give us the consequences for our rebellion. But, he doesn't. He isn't fair. Instead, He shows Grace. And Mercy. Instead of giving us what we do deserve, He blesses us with that which we don't deserve.

So, here I live. In a world that isn't fair. In a world that struggles to show grace and mercy. In a world that says fairness is expected. A world were people feel like they are owed. Like they deserve.

And I'm the same way. Because I feel entitled. Entitled to have a healthy next pregnancy, since the first one was a little rough. Entitled to have a raise at work, because I work my tail off. Entitled to have the husband cater to me, because I put Ansley to bed every night.

Entitled to that grace and mercy, because my sins aren't that bad.

I'm reminded of a beautiful song:
                            I am the thorn in Your crown, But You love me anyway 
                            I am the sweat from Your brow, But You love me anyway 
                            I am the nail in Your wrist, But You love me anyway 
                            I am Judas’ kiss, But You love me anyway

That's what isn't fair. 

The grass is always greener

I am a working mommy. And I love my job. And I also love my kid, in a completely different way. I don't feel like I'm a bad parent because our lifestyle requires two full-time jobs. I've never felt that by working I am not providing for the personal needs of Ansley.

But, sometimes, it sucks. Sometimes, I think it would be so much easier if I just stayed at home. And, sometimes, I even think that SAHMs have it easier than working moms.

Yes, I said it. Before you fill up the comment section, hear me out.

This is an age-old debate, one that I've participated in before. And, I'm not just stealing the topic because I have nothing better to write about. The past few weeks, the difficulty of our position has really come to light.

Normally, the hubs works second shift. Since I work first shift, it leaves about a three hour span- at most- for Ansley to be at the sitters. And, typically, that's only 3 days a week.

Recently, however, a shift change has put us needing a sitter for about 5 hours a day, 5 days a week. And it isn't fun.

Our sitter is great. She has two small children of her own, and she's wonderful. But we aren't able to pay as much as even a 13 year old would expect to make babysitting. And she says she doesn't mind, but Ansley can be a lot of work. She's high maintenance, sometimes. Other times, she's so easy, but she's unpredictable.

And, then there's the problem of sickness. Just like any daycare, we battle the sickness that is present at the sitter's. Normally, I try to keep Ansley home if she's sick, or if the sitter's girls are sick. But that is a whole other problem because then we have to result to a back-up sitter.

Which normally means I am texting or calling people nonstop trying to locate a sitter. And, sometimes that doesn't work. Which means Paul has to take off, or I end up taking off. And, sometimes, I end up bringing Ansley to work with me.

And, that is fun, most of the time. But forget getting anything accomplished. She is sitting up now, so she's plays a lot better on her own, but this kid is already dependent on technology. If there is a cell phone nearby, she has to have it. If a computer keyboard in clicking anywhere close to her, she wants to be pounding on the keys. Which means, on days I bring her to work, I get very little accomplished because she is always pounding on the keys. Cute, until a project you're working on ends up getting deleted.

And then, I have to deal with the fact that Ans is starting to get a little personality, and is starting to show likes and dislikes. All in all, it is a neat thing to watch, until I pick her up from the sitter's and hold out my arms and she decides she doesn't want to come to me. Yeah, that hurt. Big time.

My work day isn't finished when I get off. I don't get to nap while she's napping, and my house has recently been named a local disaster area. I know SAHMs are busy, and many have more than one kid at home, and some even opt for homeschooling, which I know doesn't make things any easier. But I have two full time jobs. Especially with Paul working in the evenings. And once the baby is in bed, that's finally my time to eat dinner and try to clean up the house, all while doing laundry and trying to get stuff together for the next day.

I do know that I am extremely lucky. I know that some working moms don't have any other option. I know that some SAHMs have very busy and trying schedules. And I know that much of this is a result of decisions I've had a part in making, but it still stinks.

So, working moms, know you are not alone is your frustration. And SAHMs, know that you are respected, because very few are able to juggle and balance as well as you manage too. And those of you that are trying to decide which is the best option for you, just wait to have kids until you win the lottery. Then you can stay at home, and pay other people to take care of your house while you sit and play with the kid all day. And eat peanut butter cups.

Now, that's the life.

Get your facts straight

Dear people who comment on my child,

I first want to thank you for taking time to "goo" and "gaa" at my child. I love the attention, and knowing that I baked a cute kiddo brings a smile to my face. However, if I have to inform you one more time that "he" is not "handsome," but, rather, "she" is "beautiful," I may have to punch you in the throat. Consider yourself warned.

To keep all confusion to a minimum, notice the pink blanket she always has, as well as the pink outfits, or those with flowers or butterflies. In the event that she does not have the pink blanket, notice the bow in her hair, the pink pacifier, or the pink and purple snail hanging from her carrier, m'kay?

In addition, please do not tell me she "sure is healthy," or ask if I'm feeding her too much. She's chubby. She's curvy. She's a butterball. All this, I know. Though she is healthy, you don't need to point that out. And, yes, she is my child. Trust me, I was there.

Finally, thank you for greeting us at church this week. And, no. I don't normally dress my son in a dress. With pink butterflies on it.

Thankyouverymuch,
The Mommy