Parenting: The 12 Labours of Hercules, Part 1

Introduction

The 12 Labours of Hercules are well known throughout the ancient and modern world as the ultimate test of human strength, endurance, and will. Not unlike parenting. As I sit and ponder the marathon that any parent goes through to get a child from birth to fully grown and independent I couldn't help but compare these feats of Hercules, this test of this half god, half human, to what we as parents go through on a daily basis. This realization came as I was vacuuming my floor after the carnage created by my 9 month old son who is crawling and has discovered the world of climbing, pulling, and generally tucking into any area that only a very limber ferret could hope to wriggle into and out of. Thank goodness for my 5 year old son who at times is the trusty Iolaus but has had his share of being the source of the labours of parenting.
As you read, please let me know your own parenting/babysitting/grandparenting labours that you have struggled through and triumphed over(?)
If you would like to read a very good synopsis of the Labours of Hercules (and the one I used), the Perseus website has excellent info and some very snazzy photos to go with the write ups.
http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/Herakles/labors.html

THE NEMEAN LION

So, Hercules was given these tasks by King Eurystheus (as punishment for murder. Am I likening parenting to murder, you might ask? No...But many of us when going through these trials, may have wondered.) and the first involved the Nemean Lion. Hercules was supposed to kill this lion who was creating general havoc around, you may have guessed, Nemea, and bring the skin back to the King.
Now, this lion was not easy to kill. Arrows were no use and the beastie went into a cave with two entrances, I think, in order to either sneak out or trap his Hercules lunch. Hercules, armed with a club, blocked an entrance and went after the Lion. Forsaking the club, he used his brawn as well as his brain and choked the thing to death. The hide is preserved that way.
Victory!
Well, how does this relate to parenting, you may ask? Let me illustrate. In order to fully understand this parenting labour you must live somewhere very very cold (like Manitoba in the Winter) and have children who hate the process and act of being tucked into snowsuits. These are no ordinary snowsuits. These snowsuits are built to withstand cold -40 degree Celsius weather. And they look like Starfish. Picture the younger brother from the movie "A Christmas Story" but take away the ability to bend, move, or even yell, because the mouth is stuffed with and covered by a scarf, tastefully knitted by great grandma, wrapped around the neck 7 times, and tied at the back with emphasis and purpose by Mom or Grandma. Those of you who have had this done have vivid memories of this, some comforting, some tainted by the intense need to pee but too afraid to ask because the bus is at the end of the lane and you are being propelled, not under your own power, towards the door at an alarming rate by a frustrated woman in a housecoat.

Here is the process of trying to get a 1 year old into a snowsuit.

1.) Drape the snowsuit on the floor, with all legs and sleeves available. Making sure there is
nothing tucked, buckled, zipped that will interfere with this marathon that you are about to
undertake.

2.) Catch the child. This may involve, like for Hercules, blocking doorways and sneaking up on
your prey as the try to escape. If your prey is backed into a corner, do not show it that you
have a club. That will lead to too many questions. Speak in soft tones, slowly creeping up on
the quivering trapped being.

3.) When that does not work and the straps on the overalls have broken, the snaps under the
legs have all popped, and there is gleeful laughter in the air, stop and regroup. Time to
strategize. Remember that you are faster, bigger, stronger, and more determined (?) than
this creature. Don't be discouraged.

4.) As you finally pick up the creature, be mindful that they have not grown more arms or legs,
that's an illusion. You will not lose your hearing with the shrieks that emanate from the being
as it views it's fabric prison. The snowsuit will still fit.

(Aside: If you have a snowsuit that has a fabric exterior that is not waterproof and has some
texture, you are ahead of the game. If it's waterproof/windproof/slippery in any way...Our
thoughts are with you)

5.) Insert the arms first, putting the lets in a slight twist hold so the prey cannot barrel roll its
way out of the situation. Using a distraction device may help, something noisy and shiny. You
may try to use the prey's older sibling but this could go either way. Do not attempt this
unless you are sure of the results.

6.) Take the prey out and change it's pants that have become soiled because of indignation and
anger.

7.) Again insert the prey's arms into the suit. Clasp the flailing legs and shove one into the
appropriate snowsuit leg.

8.) Again insert the arms into the sleeves.

9.) Again insert the arms into the sleeves.

10.) If the snowsuit has a hood, putting the prey's head into the hood may cause it to become
disoriented as it flails while trying to see. Use this opportunity to shove the other leg into the
snowsuit.

11.) Again insert the arms into the sleeves. This by now has become more difficult as the prey is
writhing and arching their back in a very non-human sort of way. Persevere. You are bigger,
stronger, not as flexible, but you do need groceries so this is part of the test of your
endurance.

12.) Try with all your might to do up the zippers/buttons/ closing device for the snowsuit. If, like
me, this snowsuit has travelled through another child in your family and if you got it second
hand, numerous other children, this can be a frustrating experience. If the zipper
breaks/button falls off/snaps won't hold, go for the scarf. In many cultures it is appropriate
and even decorative to use a scarf around the waist. Pretend this is on purpose. As you hold
the child, the snowsuit will come up over their face and you won't need a scarf anyway.

13.) Success!()&#)(&%)@(#$ If not, repeat the above. It needs to happen, it will happen, you will
look like you've been through a war and there is likely spit up on your shirt. You may still
have all of your hair which is success in itself. Congratulations!

So, you may say that there was no skinning in the defeat of this animal. I argue that in this scenario, we just need to reverse our thinking. Instead of skinning the lion, we are attaching a foreign hide to the lion. Which reminds me.....Just try getting the snowsuit off....

You never know how selfish you are until...

Just recently a friend reminded me of a statement I had made to her a long time ago that had hit home to her a couple of years later. When she asked me what it was like being married, I replied "When you get married you begin to realize how selfish you are." She reminded me of this statement when she and her husband (another good friend of mine) came to visit us with their infant son. At the time I felt slightly proud that I had made a statement that was not only true, I believe, but also meant something. I had forgotten she and I had that conversation and that reminder led me down a road to remembering when my husband and I were first married.
I think when you're married you are brought face to face with your own selfishness. Your needs, which were once your main focus, at times need to give way to the person you are supposed to love most in this world. I believe that if this doesn't happen, you can lose the opportunity for personal growth and lose the chance to come out of yourself and be part of this wonderful two person team that marriage was designed by God to be. I know that in my own marriage the realization of my own selfishness, expressed or kept festering inside myself, caused me to have some of the more painful but also greatest opportunities for growth and maturity that I have experienced. It doesn't mean these realizations are easy, it just means that if you can adapt and take yourself out of your inner world of self-focus you might end up on the other side a better person.
How the mighty have fallen. My friend, when she reminded me of this discussion of ours said that she never realized her own selfishness until she became a parent. This week, in fact, this winter, has reminded me of my own selfishness as I parent. Now, outwardly, I think we are very good at not being selfish where our kids are concerned. We would do anything for them and do everything for them but in our hearts of hearts, I believe, our selfishness can sometimes come into play. Today was one of those days.
My kids are sick. They are sick early on in a New Year that I hoped would not be a sick ridden repetition of the previous fall. I hoped in vain. They are not seriously ill, although we did have one night where the croup was serious enough that we were contemplating the emergency room. I have been a mom to sick kids this week. Being a mom to sick kids has its restrictions. You are limited in where you go, what you eat, how you handle your day to day. Your house might be a disaster and you might need to cancel meetings or miss deadlines because this 5 year old needs you just to be with him as he worries over why his body feels 'different'. This is what we signed up for and it is in these times when I can feel the least selfish as a parent.
So, this week I have felt like I could do anything for my kids and tonight I felt like I wanted it to be about me. We were headed to the Saturday night service at our church which has a wonderful coffeehouse afterwards. I was looking forward to adult conversation with my friends. It was not to be. The son who was getting better and coughing only once or twice a day and rarely at night had a coughing attack and got scared. My husband needed to stay so he would get a ride home. I have to admit that my feelings tonight did me no credit to my growth as a child of God and my growth as a mature woman. I wanted to stay, was frustrated that I couldn't and resentful that others minor inconveniences like illness had thwarted my plans. What a wonderful way to end what had actually been a good day.
The kids are now in bed, and with a conversation with my wonderful mother under my belt, and a few tears of frustration, I am ready to deal with this little ugly side of myself. My 3o year old selfish self. What are we to do when we encounter this type of personal selfishness? Don't get me wrong, I believe that taking care of yourself is important, as is finding balance in your life. We all need to take time to ourselves, take time with God, and keep ourselves physically, spiritually, and emotionally healthy. But what my concern is where does self-care cross into selfishness?
Here is my tentative thoughts on the subject as I sit here with church hair and round home clothes. I believe that self-care crosses into selfishness when it disregards compassion. True compassion for those who are in a situation where they genuinely need our love and care and understanding. My children can't help being sick and they need me, their mother, to care for them and reassure them and make sure that they have what they need to heal and rest. This also happens in our relationships with other adults. Maybe you need time to yourself and have been coveting watching that TV show or seeing that movie or the bath and perfect book combo is calling your name. Your friend or spouse comes in and they are exhausted, they need, they are dependant on that person that they love and who they know loves them. Here is where compassion can dictate who you are.
When confronted with a genuine need for your compassion, do you set aside your needs, your potential resentment, your knee-jerk reaction to say no, or not right now to care for another? Though you thought, probably rightly so, that you needed to preserve this time or this energy to care for yourself, are there times when your long term growth as a human being and a Christ follower is a benefit of setting aside self?

My Sacred Sin

The phrase "sacred sin" is one that I just learned recently. To have a sacred sin means to have something that although not necessarily immoral or sinful is something that is not necessarily the best for you. The Sacred sin is valuable to you and important for your self-indulgent well-being. For example, perhaps your sacred sin is consuming a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey Ice cream in one sitting. Maybe you are enamored with Soap Operas. Today I am going to confess my sacred sin. Lunch meat. You read it. Lunch Meat.
My husband thinks that this is one of the strangest things about me. Everyone at one time or another has eaten lunch meat and many have enjoyed it. Some consume it on a regular basis and it is a part of their lives. I LOVE hot dogs and Baloney. I mean, really love them to the extent that if we have them in the house that is all I will eat for each meal (yes, that's 3 meals a day) until they are gone. Coupled with Mayo and Cheeze Whiz, these hot dogs and fried Baloney sandwiches consume my thoughts between meals until I really do become a little consumed.
I don't know why this is. I grew up on a farm where we raised Beef Cattle. We had steak often and the best and freshest Organic beef. Hot Dogs and Baloney were an infrequent commodity in my home. Every one of my siblings has their own special way of preparing Fried Baloney sandwiches. We have the butter and ketchup crowd, the Cheeze Whiz as thick as the baloney and bread crowd. We have the mustard and butter crowd and me, the Miracle Whip and mustard on one side Cheeze Whiz on the other baloney sliced thick crowd. Oh, and it has to be cut in quarters and I eat the pieces beginning in the bottom right hand corner then right top then left bottom then right top order.
There, there's my world of crazy. I love hot dogs and baloney, my husband thinks I'm weird for it, and it is my favorite bad for me indulgence.
P. S. I'm eating cut up hot dogs on salad right now. Don't judge until you've tried.

We need a new shower curtain rod

We need a new shower curtain rod. Now you may think that after the day I had yesterday a new shower curtain rod would be the last of my worries. Not so. The need for a new shower curtain rod is representative of the last part of the flu-basset hound day. After being chilled searching for my wonderful and so glad I have her basset hound I felt the need for a bath in order to help me feel better. Baths cure so much after all. My 5 year old was happily ensconsed downstairs watching Treehouse and the baby was in his crib. I was safe and had time at my disposal to heave my weary and germ ridden carcass into the tub to hopefully warm up and boil off any residual germs or germs that had thoughts of multiplying. A good plan overall. Well, in order to get warm enough I had to have a really hot bath. Not unusual for me but what I failed to take into consideration was the effect the flu and having no caloric intake would have on my already abnormally low blood pressure. While stepping out of the tub I felt light headed. I grabbed the shower curtain rod to steady myself and woke up staring at the ceiling. As far as I can guess, from the bump on my head and sore neck and back, I passed out, fell forward in a slight pike twist position that is impossible for me to accomplish conscious, hit my head on the sink corner and fell to the floor. Thank goodness Paige Lehmans book cushioned my head impact with the floor. It is not only good for reading but good in a crisis.
Now, I am alright, except for a goose egg on my head which strangely enough has evened out my slightly miss-shapen head, a sore neck, scraped back and cross disposition.
I am feeling better today. Powerade is good for sick people. I recommend orange flavor. But as you can see when my husband came down and said that we needed a new shower curtain rod because my unconsciousness had twisted it into a u-shape, I feel that this phrase is representative of the last part of my flu-basset hound-goose egg day.

Reason #4632 why a Basset Hound is a tough pet to have

Today I have the stomach flu. The stomach flu is bad enough but I feel that after throwing up during the entirety of 2 pregnancies I have paid my vomiting dues. I am at home, feeling pretty lousy with 2 boys, one 5 years and one 7 months to care for. They are being great, dont get me wrong, but really, its the stomach flu. How good can your day be.
To add insult to injury I have a basset hound who every year when we get our first big dump of snow gets wanderlust. I dont know why because she actually hates the snow. I think she actually realizes that shes about to get sedentary and needs one last adventure before she settles into partial hibernation for the winter. I just wish she didnt do it on flu day.
I was downstairs after lunch trying to stay relatively still so as not to poke the dragon, so to speak, when I got a phone call from the lovely lady who works at the office of the Church. Our dog was loose. NOw, our town is not that big but for her to know first hand about our dog being loose would require the Basset to roam on very short legs for about 2 miles. Sheès not a sprinter by any means. This is how the chain of dog loose information came about.
A friend of ours from church works at the school across the street from our house. Her daughter also attends the school and it was the daughter who told the mother who phoned the church to try and let my husband, who works there, know that our lovely and wonderful dog was wandering the schoolyard. ClearÉ Well, my husband was in a meeting so I was next in line for the dog call. So, having the stomach flu and good looks and wardrobe that go with a sick day, I bundled up the 2 kids (snow day, remember) and plopped them into the truck. With Wiggles Christmas album playing in the background and the backseat soundtrack of ènope, not there, thatès not her, not there either, we began our search. I spent about half an hour driving around the highschool like a stalker in a white van pulling over to ask teens if theyèd seen a basset hound. After explaining what a basset hound was, I finally got the information that as rumor had it, there was a dog running loose in the school. Wonderful. I went home to phone the school office, not feeling inclined to wander the halls, sick with two kids in tow (who were having a wonderful time, by the way). As I ran up to the door our wonderful wonderful neighbor pulled up in her van. She had found the hound! But where was she, you ask. Where had this wonderful creature of Gods creation found herself. In the Post Office. Our neighbor works at the post office and when she went in after lunch there was this dog trotting towards her with joyous recognition. After telling the people who worked there that we did in fact love our dog but that she followed her nose and wandered she was gracious enough to drive her to our house. I am grateful to the kind people of the Canada Postal Service for somehow having dog biscuits on hand (which, when you think of it, actually makes a lot of sense) and caring for my wayward animal.
So. To recap, the flu, snow day, lost dog, grumbling search drive, Wiggles Christmas song entitled Captain Featherswords Christmas Pants, thrilled 5 year old and dog who is in her sin bin for the rest of the day.
P. S. Please excuse any punctuation issues regarding lack of appropriate question marks and conjunctions. We reformatted our computer and now it only types Canadian French. If anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know.