Moms are Water Buffalo

Random thoughts for the day…
Moms are like water buffalo.
No seriously. We are. Or we should be. So it might be an unusual “mom” post. But bear with me…no one ever accused me of thinking like a normal human.

A large social herd
Water buffalo are social animals. They tend to hang out in herds. They have amazing memories and remember those who hurt them in the past and those who they trust. I think this is the most common need of moms - to have friends they trust. Way too many of us have been hurt by moms we thought were our friends. We’ve been attacked and wounded by people we thought were like us - women trying our best to navigate life and everything it might throw at us. Or maybe you were that mom. Maybe you’re the one that made the comment, or gossiped and wounded and you’re regretting it. You’re holding onto the pride of pretending to be right because you don’t want to back down, but deep inside, you’re lonely. Even if you’re an introvert, like I am, you long for connection. You innately want that companionship that a friend offers. Someone who has your back, who gets what you’re going through.

Water and mud
Ok, this one isn’t serious. But come on. Water buffalo love the water. They roll around in mud to clean themselves and rid themselves of pesky annoyance. Have you ever been to a pool in the summer? Herds of moms and young. Girls nights with masks or beauty treatments? Ever seen a group of bridesmaids at a salon before a wedding? I’m telling you, water buffalo.

Expensive and valuable
You feel like you’re only good for washing dirty socks, playing taxi driver and maintaining a constant restaurant for people who don’t like the food. You’re just a big black cow. But moms, you’re so so much more than meets the eye. We are the most educated generation of moms. Ever. We have more choices, more information, more ways to trip up and feel completely over our heads than ever before. I know what it’s like to have a panic attack in Walmart standing in front of an entire AISLE of pens. We are overwhelmed and blasted from every side by our society. “Just a mom”, “I just stay home”…you are so much more.
You are the soul of your home. You are the influencer of the next generation. You might have the next President of the United States at your dinner table. That might be the next Billy Graham that is talking back to you. That sassy replica of yourself might see a seat at the Supreme Court one day. That kid the refuses to be potty trained (you know the one…that one that just looked you in eye and peed himself for the upteenth time today) might be the next Einstein. And maybe not. Maybe they will teachers, influencing generations to come. Maybe he grows up to hold a job and support his family and be a steady, honest, hardworking man. Maybe she will be a doctor that will hold the hands of the hopeless. You are so, so valuable. Right now you have more power, wield more influence than you may ever know. You are their backbone. Their sounding board. The bearer of words of life and encouragement, or destruction. Your words and actions and treatment of them over the next few years will impact them so greatly that it will change the entire course of their life for better or worse. You are not a big black cow. You, my dear friend, are a water buffalo.

The circle
Water buffalo do an amazing thing when they are under duress. They circle. In the center, they put the wounded. They put the injured, the lame, the elderly, the young. The vulnerable. And then those who are strong and those who can fight, make a wall of protection around them. Left alone, outside the wall, they would be the target of the enemy. A lone calf. An injured member of the herd. They would be easy to take down. An easy meal to defeat. But within that wall, something incredible happens. They are protected. They are secured. They can heal without fear. Be vulnerable without defeat. They are supported until the time they have the strength and the fortitude to join the circle again, where they will work together to protect their own, just as they were protected. If you aren’t convinced that you need to be a water buffalo, you have never felt alone and vulnerable. You’ve never felt outside the herd or felt like there was nothing standing between you and pain.
We NEED to be water buffalo. We need to seek out the wounded and the vulnerable and circle around them. We need to see that mom that feels like she’s on her last thread of sanity. We need to see that mom who’s been injured and attacked. We need to see that mom who’s vulnerable to depression or anger and come along side them and walk with them till they’re strong enough to help fight for each other too. We need to watch for the alone. For those who have wandered away from the herd and are trying to go it alone. They’re vulnerable. And if that’s you, you need to look for a herd. You need to find a circle. Women who will laugh, cry and pray with you. Women who have your back.

Be a water buffalo. Find a water buffalo. Make a herd.

PS If you’re interested in thinking this through more, I’d encourage you to look up the following verses. What do they tell you about being and finding water buffalo?

Ecc. 4:9-10
Gal 6:2
Prov 13:20
James 4:11
1 Cor 13:4-7

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=63&v=o1S8h3RBkKU&fbclid=IwAR2P3RrB8S1fVvrpDLdtpnC_Vp-BDU1I48LfRL91KORbzqRHt7Trk1sT2ls

The Grey Zone: The Common Act of Mothering

I've been reading a lot of articles lately about mothering and parenting.  As some of you know, this is a place of special passion for me.  I've been there.  I've been criticized my own fair share.  I'm not going to say I'm a perfect mom.  Far from it.  Often I'm a worn out, frazzled, messy house, haven't showered in so long I can't remember disaster.  But I feel compelled to address this fractioned, mom-warred out mess we find ourselves in as mom's today.

It comes in every form - stay at home mom, working mom, nursing mom, bottle feeding mom, adopted mom against adopted mom…yes!  Even within these categories that you think we could find unity, we're attacking each other.  Reading a blog post from a fellow adoptive mom yesterday and reading the comments that people, probably well-meaning, were posting, I was astonished and heart-broken to find that in this common experience of motherhood and parenting we can somehow find the time and energy to be mean.  And that's all there is to it.  It's just…mean.  

Let me say this.  We are all in this together.  Right now, you and I are parenting the next generation of the human race.  The HUMAN race.  

Let's get a few things out on the table.  I don't care what your skin color is.  You know what?  A dog is a dog is a dog.  It doesn't matter if it comes in fluffy or wiener.  Doesn't it make it any less of a dog.  We are part of the HUMAN race.  Skin color doesn't matter.  That doesn't make you a different human than me.  So stop with the "these children are better or somehow more worthy than these because they are _________ color or from ___________ country or were born into my family or were brought in by adoption".  I'm tired of hearing it.    

We've all heard the term "mommy wars".  And we've all cheered on certain articles calling it out.  But good grief people.  Give it up.  We're so caught up in our tabloid society and what we see so and so doing or not doing and somehow thinking it's our business.  Do you want to know what our business is?  Supporting each other.  Finding that mom that's struggling and coming along side her.  Noticing that mom that "looks" like she's got it all together is just as broken as you and I.  How dare we presume to know enough to judge each other.  Yes - there are lines.  There are things that are black and white, flat out wrong.  So if you're hitting your kids, or screaming and verbally and emotionally abusing them - that's not what I'm talking about.  You need help - love your kids, love your family enough to humble yourself and get it.  I'm talking about the moms in the grey zone.  That's me.  Five kids - 4 boys and a girl.  4 biological and 1 international adoption.  4 with food and environmental allergies.  Struggles with ADHD type behaviors, high activity levels, anxiety, attachment issues, self-harm…it's the grey zone where there is often no clear cut black and white and it's the zone we need to be embracing and supporting each other in.  

We all know the categories of moms - the nursing moms, the co-sleeping moms, the everything organic moms, the stay at home moms, the super moms, the working moms.  The list goes on.  And yet, it seems even within these categories we can't seem to find the simple ability to uplift each other.  The article I happened on yesterday was specific to a mom who had adopted a child that was horribly broken - reactive attachment disorder, abandonment issues.  And yet she was being attacked.  This family that had made this incredibly difficult decision, was standing by their child with every ounce of strength and love they could muster was being attacked.  Let me make something crystal clear.  Your family is not mine.  And vice versa.  Everyone of us comes into this whole parenting mess with a different weight on our shoulders.  Different baggage, different life experience, different personalities.  And then you add a spouse and children to that.  And you get more.  More baggage, more mistakes, more life experience, more personalities.  How can I possibly have the pride to look at your family and say somehow not only do I know what's going on, but I also have superior tactics to deal with it? 

Even in our adoption, this rings incredibly true.  I've been discouraged lately in my reading from adoptive families.  I'm not talking about all the chaos surrounding adoption…older child vs younger, one country vs another, U.S vs foreign, etc.  I'm talking about that same family makeup.  Take all those things - personalities, life experience, baggage and mix them up with a child that has experienced more terror and pain and loss than any child should.  That's ANY adoption.  Even a newborn - that first and primal bond with their mother was just severed.  Loss.  Trauma.  And then put them in a family.  Let's say it's for "the right reasons" (yes, there are wrong ones…and I've heard them.) Yes, the experience has it's beautiful moments.  Yes, it can also be incredibly hard.  And every mom, every dad, every sibling is unique and will deal with it in a different way.  Who am I to say that one is better than another?  It's their experience.  We got "lucky" in a lot of ways.  Our daughter's hurts manifest themselves different than other kids I've seen - or maybe we were just equipped differently to deal with it.  If your child is more wounded or more hurt from the loss they've come through, you don't need me to tell you that somehow there's something wrong with you or your family.  And I don't need someone telling me.  I don't need to attack that mom who's getting negative about her child (biological or adoptive) - it's a cry for help, for my support, for my love.  Because how do I know next week that won't be me?  How do I know I wouldn't be reacting just like her in her situation?  I don't need to attack that mom who's got it going good right now.  They seem to have smooth sailing.  She doesn't need to hear the nay-sayers tell her that might end.  She needs my support and my love so if it does, I've got her back.  God gave you your child.  Adopted, biological, it doesn't matter.  To quote Lilo and Stitch 'Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten".  My family is my family.  God gave us to each other.  There is something uniquely ME that only I can give my children.  Something they need from me, that only having me as their mother will meet.  Even in those really bad, rotten, no good, very bad days.  If God wanted you to parent them, you'd have them.  And the same holds true for you.  If God wanted me to have your kids, I'd have them.  There is something about you that makes you ideally suited to be their parent.  And instead of criticizing you and assuming you're messing it up, I'm going to choose to love you and assume you're getting it right.  

The HUMAN race.  Right now, you and I have the incredible privilege of raising the next generation.  We'll mess up.  I guarantee it.  Maybe I've got the President, the next great scientific mind that will cure cancer or AIDS.  Maybe you do.  Maybe I'm raising the next Billy Graham. The next Mozart.  Maybe my child is that kid that grows up and saves the world.  Maybe not.  Maybe they grow up to be solid citizens.  Moms and dads that stay together no matter what, who love the people around them and give generously.  That's good enough for me.  I'm going to keep going.  And when I see you having a rough day with your child, I'm not going to assume that it's because you're a bad mom.  I'm not going to assume that if you knew what I do, somehow it would easier or you'd be better for it.  Do me a favor, and do the same for me.  And that mom down the street.  And that mom in front of you at church or the grocery store.  Assume she's doing the best she can.  Assume that you can support her by being a friend (maybe that means pointing her toward something that's helped you, maybe not…believe me, you don't have all the answers).  Assume her kids are human beings, the same as yours, and treat her and them like they are.  Assume you can love her.  We're in this together.  Let's act like it.