Wondering Wednesday: Ordinary

The other day a friend of mine made the following comment on a photo I posted on Instagram. She said,

The tagline on your blog is a bit humble. "Ordinary" women do not raise large families with exceptional children. Ordinary women do not move around the world and pick up foreign languages and teach them to their children. Ordinary women are not as virtuous and humble as you seem to be. But of course you would shy away from a more accurate world, which is "extraordinary". You are an extraordinary woman leading an extraordinary life. So glad to have crossed your path.

My friend's kind and admiring words gave me pause. In so many ways, I do not feel anything but ordinary. I am doing very much of the same things that my mother, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers did before me. They married, birthed many babies, and raised those babies- in whatever easy or hard circumstances they encountered. They kneaded bread, practiced the age-old alchemy of making a delicious meal out of nothing, and pinched pennies to buy shoes or clothes for their children. They expressed their creativity and intelligence in different ways-through sewing, working as a secretary and clerk for a lawyer and then for the county court, writing, or singing. Many of these women moved across the country leaving behind family and friends. Some crossed oceans taking an enormous risk in the hopes of a better future. All of them faced loss-some lost babies, others lost siblings and friends, parents, grandparents, and spouses.

My great-grandmother Gertrude Anderson Fenex, her son Floyd Fenex, and my great-grandfather John Franklin Fenex. Gertrude was a devout Catholic, educated at a Catholic school,  and was a school teacher. She was a great letter writer. She was the calm presence to my great-grandfathers fiery temper. Gertrude and John would lose a baby (Glen) during his first year of life and their eldest son would be killed as  a civilian POW in his early 20s on Wake Island in the Pacific Islands during World War II.

So when I look at my life, compared to the long line of women who preceded me in life, it is hard to consider myself as anything but ordinary. I cook, clean, wash laundry, make beds, run errands, pick up children from school, force children to do homework, and do what needs to be done to raise a family. I have friends all over the world doing the same thing with their families.

I will not demean myself though by proclaiming any of it is easy work. It isn't. It is the hardest work I have ever done. I often feel exhausted and grumpy trying to manage it all. I work very hard to parent deliberately, to instill order out of chaos,and to provide a warm and loving environment for my children to thrive.

Being a mother isn't the sum total of my existence though. I am a writer with some skill, but still have a long path to tread before I achieve anything approaching mastery. I am curious about the world with its mysteries and conundrums. I possess the capacity to adapt and thrive in unfamiliar and challenging circumstances. I am adventurous. I am a good friend. I strive to better myself.

Whether or not I feel comfortable calling myself extraordinary, I do feel like I live in an extraordinary time with extraordinary opportunities available to me. I only hope I can live up to the promise and adventure of those opportunities.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Mothering Monday: Protect Your Children

Warning: This is a little ranty and possibly rambling.

I watched the movie, The Abolitionists, tonight. A group called Operation Underground Rescue poses as sex tourists and gather evidence to arrest and incarcerate traffickers of children and then frees the children who have been trafficked. It was a hard but inspiring film to watch.

I am grateful that light is being shed on the plight of so many kids around the world, 2 million of them, in fact. The movie also turned my mind to an issue that is almost too close to comfort. We don't really talk about childhood sexual abuse much--though the occasional article floats around. Most people don't understand that most children who are sexually abused, are abused by a relative or a close family friend. Some numbers float around (that may or may not be true) that 1 in 3 girls or women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. The number is supposedly 1 in 9 for men. Both girls AND boys can be sexually abused.

It is a sad, ugly, and hard to bear thinking about it. But it exists. In fact, almost every family--especially when you consider extended families, has a story, whether or not they acknowledge it. I have my own story in my extended family. I never experienced sexual abuse, but people close to me have. Its a pretty awful thing to experience as a child, and pretty horrible to process as an adult. In fact, it takes an average of 15 years for a woman to process and recover from sexual abuse as an adult, once she has openly acknowledged what has happened to her. I imagine that it almost more difficult for men to recover from childhood sexual abuse as our culture makes it much harder for them to talk about about being abused.

When I found out what had happened in my family, it fractured my entire world. It was a devastating experience that has taken me years to process. I wouldn't go back to a place of ignorance because knowledge has allowed me to protect my own children. But it certainly shattered family relationships and has seriously complicated my ability to trust in people.

Perhaps the hardest thing to deal with when addressing abuse is how often the women in the family will shield an abuser. A wife will shield her husband, siblings protect a brother, a mother will shield and protect her child the abuser. This veil of protection that abusers often enjoy means that more children are victimized and suffer as adults and pedophiles go free.

I'm going to be the first to admit that dealing with an abuser in the family is enormously complicated and there are no simple or easy solutions. But I can emphatically tell you what doesn't work. It never, ever works when a predator is protected from the law and the family tries to hush it up. Instead, lies web and entangle the entire family and it literally poisons them. Siblings can't trust one another. Parents betray each other and their children. And every single person in the family suffers. I know this because I have experienced it.

It requires enormous courage on the part of a woman to acknowledge the existence of abuse by her husband, son, or daughter and to then address it.

Every father and mother must be prepared to protect and defend their children from abuse and predators at all costs. To do anything less is the most profound betrayal of one's children and one's calling as a parent.

It has taken me years to forgive a person I felt betrayed me by protecting a pedophile. Don't protect bad people who do bad stuff to kids. Don't. I don't care how much you think it is going to cost if you do the right thing. I can promise you that protecting an abuser is going to bring more tragedy and pain in your life than you ever possibly imagined.

End Rant.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Spiritual Sunday: Lessons from Being a Mother

I believe that being a mother is a sacred and holy calling that is assigned to women from God. I'm grateful for my mother and for the opportunity to be a mother.

I am grateful to my mother, who carried me in her womb for nine months and then labored to bring me forth. She has nurtured me, fed me, clothed me, and provided opportunities for me to grow and develop. She believes in me and trusts me. I hope I can be like her someday.

I am grateful to my mother-in-law for being such a wonderful mother to my husband a wonderful grandmother to my children. My mother-in-law has always believed in my husband and has encouraged him in every endeavor. She raised him to be kind, respectful, loving, hard-working, faithful, honest, true, and happy. She is so loving and good to me. 

My oldest son was born 16 1/2 years ago. He is a clever, interesting, thoughtful, introverted, and driven. He is the son who is literally breaking me in for his siblings. He bears the majority of my parenting mistakes with grace. Right now he is teaching me how to let a child grow up and be independent.

My second son was born almost 15 years ago. He is grumpy in the morning, kind to his siblings, generous, carries almost encyclopedic knowledge in his head about a multitude of subjects, and is true to what he believes. Right now he is teaching me to be more patient and kind. He is also teaching me that people do change, especially with love and encouragement.

My third son was born almost 13 years ago. He is steady, diligent, goofy, mischievous, and a troublemaker. At the moment, he is teaching me that he can be trusted but that I also need to remember he is still a little boy.

My fourth child and oldest daughter turns 10 in just a few months. She is sweet, bright, positive, cheerful, self-assured, confident, musical, and light. She is teaching me to take more time enjoying her and her siblings.

My fifth child and fourth son is 6 1/2 years old. He is gentle, loving, kind, playful, and friendly. He is teaching me to be more calm and thoughtful when I speak.

My sixth child and second daughter is two and she just lights up my world. She makes funny faces, is independent, and snuggly. She reminds me how much I am needed, kids grow up too fast, and to savor the time I have with all my children.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED