I’m writing not from the perspective of a parent (because I have no experience with my unborn child) but a daycare worker. Contrasted with a public school system which a few short decades ago allowed spanking, daycares and preschools today are paranoid about punishment. In fact, the words punishment or discipline are taboo. Even time-outs are joining the list of unacceptable behavioral modification. The only acceptable modes of correction are distraction or redirection. Understandably, daycares want to stay far away from allegations of abuse, and they are increasingly staying away (officially) from imposing any negative consequences whatsoever.

Albert Mohler inspired this post as well, with his October 23 radio program entitled “The Blessings of Discipline in a Child’s Life.” He cites a New York Times article which notes the cultural phenomenon of shouting instead of spanking. A generation who would never administer corporal punishment to their children are still a generation who yell at their children.

Dr. Mohler thinks this is because parental understanding of discipline has changed from being grounded in punishment and teaching right from wrong, to the simple equation of greater or less frustration, equaling greater or less yelling.

I think this is sad, and I have seen the fruits of it in my work settings. Teachers are substitute parents for many of the children in their care, taking care of them for as many as 10 hours a day, 5 days a week. Yet they are not permitted to administer negative consequences for bad behavior (or even allowed to use the word bad). This is because they are merely paid caregivers, and do not have the trust or responsibility to wisely punish children, especially in a culture that largely views punishment as unnecessarily negative.

There is nothing but frustration in this setting. Teachers try to control six 1-year-olds or eleven 2-year-olds or fifteen 3-year-olds on their own, and positive redirection of every misbehavior becomes a near impossibility. Meanwhile, parents are gone from their children for 40+ hours a week, and the last thing they want is to deal with misbehavior on the way out the door. I’ve witnessed more than one yelling episode in the parking lot as a parent is preparing to take their child home.

Parents are afraid of their children. Children are out of their parents’ control, and they know it. Parents feel helpless to take over the situation, and guilty about administering discipline. They don’t even know how to do it in many cases. So good intentions and a feeling of helplessness become frustration and anger as the child becomes increasingly uncontrollable, and it pours out into yelling.

Children become deaf to yelling – not that it doesn’t affect them at all, but they don’t respond favorably when yelled at continually. They learn to ignore it, to tune it out like so much white noise.

Yesterday I went to the county immunization center to get the H1N1 vaccine. As I waited for my name to be called, I was sitting across from a couple with two young children -adorable kids, a boy around 5 and a girl around 3. They were trying to deal with the restless little girl who threw a fit every other minute, literally. Her dad walked around with her, took her outside numerous times, showed her videos on his cell phone, and cajoled her into happiness in every way he could think of. Meanwhile, the mom snapped at the boy because he didn’t want to sit still in the chair. She was frazzled, frustrated, and would have been yelling if it wasn’t a public place. I recognized the symptoms easily because I have felt helpless frustration with out-of-control children many times myself.

I couldn’t help mentally comparing this unhappy family with a family with young children I know in our church. They act like completely normal children in many ways. If they were waiting in the office for an hour, they wouldn’t all have been sitting still, either, and the two-year-old boy would probably have been acting just like the little girl I saw. The difference is how their parents handle the situation. They are in authority, and they know it -  but instead of its being a power trip, it helps eliminate their frustration. They’re calmer when taking a child aside to be confronted or spanked, even if  it has to be done numerous times, and eventually, their consistent discipline bears fruit as their children grow older.

What’s the difference between these two families? Simple – the gospel. The parents of the first family are symptomatic of our culture’s mindset toward childrearing. The world’s view on this would have been different fifty years ago, but no less ungodly. The only reason the second family is different is because the parents understand God’s mercy and goodness, His holy standards, and are able to enforce discipline with both grace and firmness. Without Christ’s death on the cross for sinners, there would be no hope in trying to enforce moral behavior in children, but reminded of their own forgiven status and desirous of seeing their children know the Lord, Christian parents have hope.

This isn’t to say Christian parents never become frustrated or yell at their children. I know that’s not the case. The point is that only God can give parents the strength and wisdom they need, even though it is definitely a process of sanctification for the parents and not just the children! I’m sure I’ll be able to testify to that in a few years.

The big question raised by these studies is this: Has feminism produced unhappiness among women? That question is inescapable when seen in light of the historical context. The great transformation of society by feminism took shape only after the 1970s. As a political and social movement, feminism has been stunningly successful. In the span of a single generation, the society has been overwhelmingly transformed. But, over the same period, women report themselves less happy, especially as compared to men…

In reality, feminism was never only about opening doors for women. In order to make the case for the vast social transformation that feminism has produced, the feminist movement aspired to nothing short of a total social, moral, and cultural revolution. Along the way, feminism redefined womanhood, marriage, motherhood, and the roles for both men and women.

Nevertheless, it appears that most women are uncomfortable with this total package. Instead of producing a vast expansion of happiness among women, the feminist movement must now answer for the fact that women, by their own evaluation, appear to be less happy than before the revolution.

Dr. Mohler doesn’t expand on his belief for the reasons behind the state of female unhappiness in response to feminism – or he implies his reasons rather than stating them. It would seem that feminism, in attempting to give women more, more, more – more opportunities, more equality, more freedom – in reality struck a blow at the heart of what it means to be female. Feminism promises to give, but it has taken more than it has given.

Looking at this cultural context biblically is challenging. Certainly if a woman does not know the Lord, it does not matter whether she is a feminist or not. She might believe in and fulfill the most “traditional” roles for women, and yet still be ultimately unhappy and unfulfilled. The pre-feminist era was not a utopia of femininity, a shiny June Cleaver/Donna Reed world where women attained the elusive happiness they seek in vain today.

However, when roles for women were more clearly defined and commonly assumed, when they were closer to the Judeo-Christian tradition rooted in Scripture, even unbelieving women described themselves as more fulfilled. I think this is a testimony to the deep truth and power of God’s ways.

The fruit of cultural revolution, seen decades later, sheds light on my own heart. I am blessed to be aware of my biblical calling as a woman, including my specific calling right now as a wife and soon-to-be mother. My knowledge of this calling and my special role does not guarantee that I will be happy and fulfilled, for without intimate knowledge of and communion with Christ I will never be completely either completely (as my ongoing struggles with depression and self-pity testify). However, being assured in my purpose as a daughter of God does help provide me with security and confidence, as long as I am trusting Him to be ultimate fulfillment.

But nine months is a long time, especially when weeks 6-16 sent me to the emergency room once for dehydration, while the rest of my time was spent on the couch trying not to throw up, sipping Gatorade and eating Chex Mix.

I couldn’t feel the baby moving then either. I didn’t know his gender or his name. He was a little abstract, a floating concept, someone I knew existed but couldn’t connect to.

I loved him, though, in spite of the physical and emotional roller coaster he was putting me through. Even though he came along so quickly after we got married, creating even more change in a changeful year, I was happy. I saw him moving on the ultrasound at 9 weeks and heard his perfect heartbeat at 13 weeks. He really was there!

Around 16 weeks, I started to feel better, and it wasn’t until then I realized how completely miserable I had been! I felt like my old self again, with occasional relapses. I felt the baby move for the first time, just a couple of furtive but insistent jerks first thing in the morning. To top it all off, our anatomy ultrasound was at 18 weeks. We were having a boy!

In the past several weeks since then, reality has been sinking in. Strangers can now tell I’m pregnant. The baby moves consistently throughout the day (and night sometimes), and A.J. can feel him moving too. We know he’s a boy and what we’re naming him (Christian Andrew). I’m 3 weeks away from the third trimester, and less than 15 weeks away from delivery.

So much of the pregnancy so far has been centered around the pregnancy, the nausea and exhaustion it created, the way it changed our entire lives, the weekly progress of our baby’s growth. But now I’m getting to the point where I’m realizing this is going to end sooner rather than later. I still have a lot of work to do to prepare, but that’s not what overwhelms me – it’s thinking about after he’s born!

I just spent about an hour looking through a book about baby’s first year, and all of the post-delivery stuff scares me. The nasty details about recovering that no one ever talks about, the difficulties of breastfeeding, the extreme fatigue of being on a newborn’s schedule, the losing of pregnancy weight. Right now I just want someone to tell me that it won’t really be that bad, that I’ll get the hang of it and be able to take care of my baby and clean my house and look like I did before I was pregnant. Being a first-time mom is scary!

Thank the Lord I have role models to bring to mind – my own mother for one, who was sick with each of her four pregnancies and had all four of us before I (the oldest) turned five. She didn’t seem frazzled and miserable while we were growing up; I remember a mostly clean house and delicious food and a mother who always looked put-together and seemed mostly calm. (I know I probably missed some things, but that’s a pretty good overall impression to leave in your child’s mind!)

And there are women I know from church, both growing up and now, who have little ones and though their houses aren’t perfectly perfect and they don’t look like Heidi Klum two months after delivery, they seem to be happy and healthy people, even having been through the trauma of motherhood (it seems traumatic to me at times!).

I’m easily discouraged, but I want to take it one day at a time and remember God has ordained this calling for me and will give me the strength and comfort I need.

I’ve left the land of beautiful autumns (Ohio and Michigan) and now reside in the hot and humid environs of Florida. So I’m not exactly able to enjoy the leaves changing colors and drifting gently to the ground in a dazzling autumnal array. But I am enjoying fall nonetheless, especially over the past few days, which have been significantly cooler. (We even turned on the heat for an hour yesterday.) And I still drink hot apple cider, and I’m making pumpkin bread in a few minutes.

What is your favorite part of fall?

“Go Hard” is a song from Lecrae’s newest album Rebel, and this music video was just released. Lecrae is a reformed Christian rapper with radically gospel-oriented lyrics. His music is so convicting to listen to. This song is a perfect example. Here are a few of the lyrics to go along with the video.

Lord, kill me if I don’t preach the gospel
I’m still in my twenties, but I’ll die if I got to
Man, I’m already dead – man, forget my flesh
I done been crossed over, see the full court press

I’m a full court mess if the Lord don’t use me
Running from my trials, thinking everything’s groovy
If the cross don’t move me, I don’t wanna breathe no more
If I ain’t reppin’ Christ, partner I don’t wanna see no more

Rep Him every day without worrying about bruising
I been to China, man, I seen some real persecution
If you didn’t know Christ, would your life look the same?
Can they tell you value Jesus by the way you rep His name?

Man, what’s the point of living if I’m living for myself?
Lord, empty out my life before I put You on the shelf
So for God I go hard – I don’t wanna die tonight
But it’s too many people living who ain’t heard about the Christ

Went to Asia, had to duck and hide for sharing my faith
They tell me water it down when I get back to the States
They say, “Tone the music down, you might sell a lot of records”
But there’s people out there dying and none of ‘em heard the message

Took my wifey on a mission trip in Central America
Shared her testimony, forty people stood and stared at her
When she said Jesus, should’a seen, it was insane
‘Cause forty out of forty never heard of Jesus’ name

Oh man, we ain’t focused on the war, we just kicking it
Worried ’bout our image and our space up on the Internet
Take me out the game, coach, I don’t wanna play no more
If I can’t give it all I got and leave it out there on the court

Thank You for the grace, for the will and the desire
Got me living for Your glory ’stead of living to retire
But I pray I never tire of going hard for Messiah
I don’t need no motivation, You the reason I’m inspired

As a new, amateur homemaker I enjoy trying to cook inexpensive and healthy meals for my husband and myself. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t. My best bets are usually recipes passed down from my mother. I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort of cook, for the most part. I’m also not good at crusts or dough. I’m working on that, though.

I really like browsing through the hundreds of weekly menus posted at I’m an Organizing Junkie each week for Meal Plan Monday. I decided to post my tentative plan for this week, but I haven’t gone so far as to include the recipes. If you want one of them, let me know and I’ll be happy to send it to you. Maybe if I keep doing this I’ll post the recipes along with the menu.

Monday: pizza casserole

Tuesday: chicken pot pie

Wednesday: sausage/noodles/peas casserole

Thursday: chicken strips, mashed potatoes, corn

Friday: black bean and cheese enchiladas, rice with veggies

Weekend: chili with cheese and crackers

Updates! Marriage, baby, work, church – that’s pretty much what life boils down to right now. I am working very part-time, about 10 hours a week, since I’m still at the daycare. At this moment I’m going through the laborious process of uploading our beautiful wedding pictures to Facebook, which is why I also took the time on this Friday morning to update my blog.

Things are going well in Babyland, too. I will be 25 weeks on Monday (yay! So exciting!). I’m completely amazed at the way I’ve fallen in love with this baby who I’ve never even met. From the beginning moments of “I can’t believe this is really true,” “Did we know what we were getting ourselves into?” and “I’ve only thrown up four times today,” to now, the glorious second half of the second trimester, has been such a bonding experience.

Speaking of the second trimester, I am such a fan. And by that I mean the second half of the second trimester or so – the first half I was still miserable. I had morning sickness until about 16 weeks, and finally started feeling normal every day around 20 weeks. Now I feel like my old self again, something I didn’t even think was possible for awhile! (”Is this motherhood? What in the world did I sign up for?”)

The third trimester is looming ahead, which is great for Baby – the longer we go, the safer he is – but I’m dreading it a little. I’m still small for being almost 6 months along, so everything’s still pretty convenient, I sleep tolerably well at night, and I’m not completely exhausted all the time. I’m just waiting for the second miserable phase to kick in – but nothing could be worse than first-trimester nausea. Seriously, I would rather go through labor than experience those months of sickness again. (Which works out well, since that’s what’s going to happen!)

Okay, well, I have spent enough time on here already, and I still have about 100 pictures to tag on Facebook. I don’t think those will get completed at the moment. Comment if you’re still out there – I’m going to try to renew my commenting habits too. Until next time…

When we first found out we were expecting, A.J. wanted a boy and I wanted a girl. It was hard for me to picture having a little boy since I had grown up with three younger sisters and have always related to girls better than to boys. However, I tried to think of the baby as a boy so I wouldn’t be disappointed!

Over the past several weeks, though, God seemed to do His own work in my heart. I began thinking of the baby as a boy on my own without trying to, and picturing how fun it would be to see my husband as a father, and to still be the only girl in the house. Of course, I knew I would be overjoyed no matter if I was having a son or a daughter, but it does help to be mentally prepared for both!

By yesterday, I felt pretty certain in my maternal instincts (for what those are worth) that we were having a boy, so when the ultrasound technician told us that we were indeed expecting a son, I said, “I knew it!” (I’m sure she hears that a lot.) A.J. was very excited too, although he would’ve been happy with a girl as well. Even more fun, I think, than finding out the sex was seeing the little heart beat and watching the baby move around. I love ultrasounds; it’s so miraculous to see our precious little baby growing and moving. And it is a blessing to know that he is healthy. I do have a minor issue called placenta previa that should self-correct over the next several weeks; if not, it could lead to an eventual C-section. Other than that, everything is progressing well.

I’ve also been blessed to continue my minimal work schedule for the time being (two hours a day), and am enjoying picking up my neglected homemaking skills. It is a challenge for me to be diligent and productive during this time, because I still feel a little under the weather and I have gotten so used to not being able to do anything. But I don’t want to encourage laziness in myself. I also know that only the Lord can give me the strength and motivation to be faithful in every little thing.

I should finish this update for now; we’re leaving soon to pick up my youngest sister from the airport. She’s coming to visit over the long weekend and I’m really looking forward to it. Enjoy your Labor Day weekend, friends!