50 Shades of Grey: A Mom’s Perspective

God woke me this morning. He fueled a fire in me. Next weekend the book touted as the quickest book to 1 million sales releases as a movie. In the midst of commercials indicating the love story, I worry too many moms and their teens will see this movie. Obviously, too many have already read the book.

I have 3 children at home (ages 16, 15 & 8). As a mom, may I give you 3 reasons why I won’t read the book or see the movie:

1. My son is 16 years old. This movie is rated R, meaning my son can easily see this movie without any parental permission. On the movie’s website they proudly promote their erotic genre, yet were not given the typical NC-17 or X rating that such films typically receive. Early reports share that 20 minutes of the film contain sex scenes, making this movie the most sex-filled movie in the last decade. Worst yet, the sex is violent and perpetrated by a handsome young man. Those images and perspective would have a lasting impression, which could ultimately ruin his ability to care for and love his future bride the way his father cares for and loves me.

2. My daughter is 15 years old. While you may think she couldn’t gain access to an R rated film, you would be wrong. A reviewer clocks the lead actress with saying “holy” 147 times in the book. That equates to once every 3.5 pages. Yet, the one One that remains Holy is God, Himself. There is nothing holy about being physically hurt during sex. I would never wish my daughter to derive arousal from pain. This book and movie not only demoralize what God intended for sex, it devalues God’s value in our lives.

3. My youngest daughter is 8 years old. She may be too young to see the movie by herself, but she has seen the commercial and has asked some questions. In Vitro my little one was exposed to drugs and alcohol by her biological mother. For 8 years, I have watched the toll that has taken on my little girl as she has struggled to meet physical milestones and more recently educational milestones. According to statistics, the lead female character drinks between 6.7 – 7.3 units of alcohol every day for the 25 day span of the book (the maximum suggested intake is 2-3 units/day). While I should hope it would give pause to everyone that reads the book or watches the movie, let me state it clearly, this character must drink to desensitize herself from the pain and/or several reviewers state she would be hospitalized due to the amount of alcohol intake.

I promised you 3, but I couldn’t end without the most important reason for NOT reading this book or seeing this movie: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Philippians 4:8.

One last note to every mom who has already read the book. Please do not read this post thinking I judge you. I do not. We live in a sexually saturated culture, but God’s grace is abundant. I pray you will seek God’s guidance in “whatever” you do, think, read and watch. We all need to. God loves you Momma!!

 

Emergency

A visit to a college campus kept me on my toes as I passed several of these helpful “Emergency” poles. A sad reality of our violent times, but I must say I was challenged.

My self-control was challenged.

I wanted to push the button!

When did my first-born become old enough to look at colleges?
How can I imagine dropping him off at a college?
They want him for 4 1/2 years? (PS: I thought college was supposed to be 4 years.)
Isn’t there a pause button on this thing called life?

You’ll be proud. I didn’t push the button. I wanted to, boy did I want to. I mean, if they really want my baby, they need to have a good response time.

I wanted to pick him up, pack him up & hide him in my house. He’s mine! And that’s when it hit me…

I’m on the wrong side of the Emergency. The emergency isn’t when he leaves. The emergency is NOW. I need to take the time and make the memories NOW.

 

Tag Team

 

Minimally-dressed, physically-built men act enraged and pounce a team looking like a mirror image. That’s wrestling. Tag Team Wrestling, though could teach us a thing or two about parenting.

When 1 player becomes tired or has taken a pounding, they can tag out and their teammate, will jump in to defend the team. Parenting can work much the same way. A tired mom can tag dad, a worn out dad can tag mom. Regardless the reason, there are times we need to rely on our parenting partner.

While our partner takes care of things on the mat, we can get the rest we need. We can prepare to take the next match. Parenting can be physically and emotionally draining. It helps to have a partner.

There is ONE thing to remember: While your partner is on the mat, your partner calls the plays. Dads and Moms don’t parent the same way. I have been guilty numerous times of tagging my husband and then supervising his turn on the mat. I found there was no quicker way to break up our teamwork than to undermine his importance on the team.

 

 

Come On, Momma

Background for Today‘s Post: One of my favorite things on ESPN is “C’Mon, Man”. It is ESPN’s Monday Night Countdown of all the plays that week that make the sports anchors scratch their heads. They are often silly miscues, honest mistakes or over-the-top show boating.

My daughter and I wait patiently to see the pediatrician in a packed office filled with children needing their back-to-school physical. The mom in question, in her early thirties is well dressed with long blonde hair. Her son, about 2 years old, begins playing with his stuffed dinosaur. The dinosaur looks to be well-loved. It’s head appears darker than the body, most likely due to the teething boy’s ritual of chewing on it. The bottom of the dinosaur lacks color and seems to be losing some stitching, probably due to the boys rough play of dragging it along the ground while actively pretending the dinosaur is alive.

Suddenly, the boy brings to his mom a twin. A dinosaur that looks just like his, yet less worn. The boy’s eyes light up with excitement that his dinosaur has found a friend. As the boy searches the room for a little guy to play pretend with his gaze catches only pig tails and a sea of pink. No other boys in the waiting room. He asks his mom, “Who dino?” And that’s where things got a little crazy..

Mom replies, “Yours.” The son, lifts his dinosaur and says, “No, this mine.” Mom begins to tell her son that another boy left the dinosaur and since he found it he gets to keep it. She actually follows up by having her son repeat after her, “Finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers.”

Her son’s name is called and she gather’s her things. The son tries to leave the lost dinosaur, but mom again repeats, finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers. She glances at another mom and says, “Finally, I might get to wash his dinosaur.”

Come on, Momma!

Every mom has had a day where you weren’t on your game, you didn’t play well, you needed a time out. Standing on the sideline, I wanted to be the referee. I wanted to call, “Foul.” I wanted to impose a penalty. But that is not my place. I should have spoken up. I should have suggested she turn it in at the desk, so the desperate mom, whose son would be searching the waiting room momentarily for his long lost dinosaur, had a shot at comforting her child. I should have, but I didn’t. I sat quietly amazed at one momma, who was off her game. Momma, if you are reading this, I’m sorry. I should have had your back. We mommas need to play as a team, please forgive me.

 

 

I’m Sorry

Confession: I’m a yeller by nature. Only on my game am I the mom I want to be. I envision quietly speaking to my child’s heart by looking them in the eyes. At the end of our cordial conversation, my words would be met with instant obedience, a child’s repentant heart and a big hug.

But, I’m not always on my game. Searching a disorganized counter, I search for the car key. A glance at the giant clock within my view heightens my anxiety. Late. Again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it. A child wistfully playing unaware of the dilemma we find ourselves in. She begins whistling. I don’t like whistling. I especially don’t like whistling while I’m searching for the object that frees us from this capture.

STOP WHISTLING, PLEASE. As if yelling “please”, excuses me from yelling at this little one.

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M LOOKING FOR MY KEY? Knowing that “please” didn’t work, I try to reason with a preschooler.

Moments later, that little precious girl of mine, says, “Here’s the key, Mommy. I was holding it special for you.”

I never asked my preschooler if she had seen the key. I went on thinking finding the key was Mom Work and yet, I yelled at her when she went about doing Preschooler Work. There was only one thing to do.

I asked my little one to sit on my lap and I apologized. I told her I was wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have asked nicely. I asked for her forgiveness. She forgave my repentant heart and we shared that hug. Sometimes the moms provide the discipline and sometimes my kids provide me the discipline I need.

So, I encourage you, Momma, apologize when you need to. Matthew 12:25 tells us, “Every kingdom that fights against itself will be destroyed. Every city or family that is divided against itself will not stand.” (emphasis mine)

Then, when you receive forgiveness, Rock On, Momma, Rock On!

 

Try Not To Laugh

I feel the laughter welling up inside like a shaken bottle of soda ready to explode. I try to hold it together as my precious little one conveys the most serious condition of a school mate.

“Mommy, we need to pray for Becca. She has a lizard, so she had to go home until her mommy takes care of her. Becca was so sad to miss school, but the teacher told us that her mommy knows how to take care of the lizard.”

Utterly confused, I respond, “Erica, how do you know she has a lizard?”

“Mom, because the teacher found,” Erica begins to whisper with her face contorted, “lizard poopy in Becca’s hair.”

“What?” I gasp.

“Becca has lizard poop in her hair and she can’t come back to school until it is all gone. Don’t worry, Mom, the teacher checked everyone’s hair, even mine. The teacher told me I didn’t have any. I told the teacher we had a dog, not a lizard, but she said she had to check everyone’s hair.”

“Mommy, I tried to tell her that we put the dog poop in a bag and throw it away, but the teacher kept saying she had to check.”

I can’t contain it anymore, I burst out laughing. Lizard poop = Lice. So glad my little one doesn’t have any!

 

Every Mom’s Dream

Every mom has been exhausted. Moms do the work that very few would sign up for. Moms are the ones that answer the cries in the middle of the night, they rock babies when their eyes and arms can barely stay awake. Moms are the first ones there in the middle of the night holding their sick little ones covered in puke. Moms then stay up late to clean up and cake on concealer in the morning.

So, for any mom that’s been up way too late and that today feels way too tired, here’s some commercial ideas we wish were true…

“You Deserve a Break Today” – McDonald’s actually offered organic food that tasted like fast food, so that we could feel great about what sometimes has to be dinner, because we forgot to take something out for dinner, AGAIN.

“We Sea Food Differently” – Red Lobster would become an interior design company, so mom’s would be seen as hip and in style when someone notices the dried baby food plastered to the wall.

“Melt in Your Mouth, Not In Your Hands” – M&Ms would oversee the FDA, ensuring that no likable food would melt in a child’s hands thus eliminating dirty handprints.

“Where Shopping is a Pleasure” – Publix would offer day care while moms shopped and candy would NEVER be at the checkout lane. AND, the bag boy would come home with you and put the groceries away, you are tired after all.

“Because You’re Worth It” – Loreal Cosmetics would deliver on their promise to make us moms look like super models, because we ARE worth it!

“A Diamond is Forever” – DeBears would price a diamond where it could last forever, but we wouldn’t have to pay for it forever. That way, husbands could appreciate our labor of love with some bling.

“15 Minutes Could Save You 15% or More” – GEICO would allow us to choose, 15% savings on everything or we could have 15 minutes of our lives back, probably to sleep!

These are just a few ideas, but I would love for you to add a few more. So, add your comment, it’s our dream!