Showing posts with label definition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label definition. Show all posts

are you just not the mothering type?

>> Wednesday, July 15, 2009

On our next anniversary, we'll celebrate seven years of marriage. The last four years have included not only active church involvement, domestic travel for speaking engagements, and international travel for my work in training pastors for evangelism.

As a result, I often field questions like "What is your position on women's ordination?" and "How do you juggle being a local pastor's wife with three or more months of international travel each year?"

And of course, there's the inevitable: "When are you guys going to have kids? Or are you just not the mothering type?"

I learned quickly that nobody particularly wanted the real answer. They just wanted to probe. To be a little nosy. How will she react? Is she feminine or feminist?

So my standard answer became, "Well, it just hasn't happened for us yet." At which point people either nodded and moved on, or launched into detailed personal stories about all the other people they knew who were experiencing infertility, too. Which, of course, wasn't exactly what I meant. But anyway...

The real answer?

I'm definitely the mothering type. But there's no way I was going to become a mother before I could be the kind of parent that I think God calls today's mothers to be.

We weren't ready yet. We believe that whenever possible, it's best to have a marriage before adding a family. We wanted time to travel and explore the world together. We spent the first 4.5 years sharing our home with always at least one member of extended family. We wanted some time alone together after the last family members moved out.

And we have very distinct and definite ideas about the kind of home we want to create for our children.

Those ideas do not include daycare, absentee parenting, or using the TV as a babysitter. And we plan to do weird, old-fashioned things that lots of people think are unusual these days - like breast-feeding, gardening, homeschooling, and so on.

None of which are exactly compatible with Mommy jetting off to the UK or Australia or Russia for 2 to 5 weeks at a time.

Hence, no kids. Doesn't mean mommy won't do some work at home or earn some money on the side or stay involved in ministry and other contributions - after all, she has at least a decade left of paying off the loans for her master's degree!

Now, while the news about Munchkin #1 was a bit of a surprise - it did come at a time when the house was empty of relatives, the cars and credit cards were paid off, and Mommy's work was flexible - at least until September, when she'll be back on the job hunt - but we digress.

So why didn't we have kids for so long? Because we wanted to give them the kind of home life that we believe God has called us to provide. And until that time came, we were willing to wait.


© Sarah K. Asaftei, 2009 unless otherwise sourced. Use allowed by express written permission only.

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setting the record straight...

>> Saturday, July 11, 2009

It seems that some readers might be in confusion about the reason for this blog, and the motives behind post subjects.

Just for the record, I can't wait to meet my son. Doesn't mean I've got to love being pregnant.

For your information, I'd hardly been sick a day in my life until I got unexpectedly pregnant. Almost 5 months of bed rest, 24-hour a day nausea, miscarriage scares and other complications, facial psoriasis and other skin anomalies - all combine to make this once very active blogger feel quite discouraged at times.

When you're a 2-meals-and-3-litres-of-water-a-day, 6-days-a-week at the gym and 3-to-4 months of international travel a year kind of girl, several months in bed with no social interaction, no energy, gnawing hunger every 1.5 hours, and total inability to open a refrigerator to get your own snacks without heaving over the sink from the food smells - yeah, it can wreak havoc on your perspective.

Of course, I could blog about the number of times I feel Munchkin kick every single day.

Or write rapturous posts about the moments I stand randomly in the kitchen daydreaming about what my son will look like. Will he have curly black hair like his daddy? Green eyes like his grandaddy? Olive skin or fair?

Or I could drone on about the "magical experience" of embracing all the new curves (whether I wanted them or not)...

Or maybe I should fill this blog with posts about how I'm perfectly certain that my child will be the cutest, smartest, most adorable creature in the world.

But honestly, who wants to read that? There are thousands of mommyblogs out there, where women flood pages of cyberspace with nearly-identical details about their daily lives. And if you're blogging to keep distant family and friends updated with photos and stories, then - perfect! Good for you. Stick with your genre.

This blog isn't about that.

I'm a writer. This blog has a niche. That niche is not aiming for magical, sappy, or daily family updates. It's about finding humor - or the lack of it - in the changes that come to an international career woman while making the transition to mother. It isn't about sugar-coating, or glossing over, or making myself sound heroic or joyful when I'm actually scared and depressed.

It's about being real. About eagerly anticipating a lifetime acquaintance with this new human being growing inside me, and not pretending to necessarily love the process of getting there.

So, dear readers, keep the comments flowing. They inspire me. They remind me of things I might ought to blog about.

And they definitely make the blog more interesting! Who wants a boring blog, anyway?

Not this chick.

© Sarah K. Asaftei, 2009 unless otherwise sourced. Use allowed by express written permission only.

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mushbrain

>> Friday, April 10, 2009

What is it exactly that makes you so forgetful, clumsy, and randomly idiotic while pregnant?

Can't say I love that little part...

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curwhibbles?

Okay, you're sitting there thinking - this chick has three blogs, called CLUTCH, CURWHIBBLES and GODWOTTERY. Is she nuts?!?

Call it the curse of having been an English major in college. Ever since my teens, I've had an odd love affair with unique, outdated words. Studying literature only happened to increase it. (It seems to run in the family - just check out my sister's blog, called WHISTERPOOP!)

Want some definitions? Here you go:
GODWOTTERY: nonsense, balderdash
CURWHIBBLES: a thing-a-ma-jig. or a what-cha-ma-call-it

I was browsing around for a new name for this blog, and CURWHIBBLES just jumped out at me.

Pregnancy has this magical way of turning my head into spaghetti and I suddenly can't think of the names or words for anything. "Thing-a-ma-jig" and "whatcha-ma-callit" are suddenly standard words in my vocabulary.

Seems my once steel-trap brain has suddenly gone the way of, uh... shucks... what was that word again?

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