Fatherhood
These Days
Over the weekend, I finished reading a book. The last time I accomplished that feat was in August. I’ve started a walking streak, another habit that I’ve let slide in the past 90 days. My sleep schedule is out of whack, and I’ve lived day-to-day. I could just blame it on everything that was 2020, but in my experience, this is something cyclical. I fall into and out of routine.
The reason I still aspire to build and maintain a strong routine is because of what it offers. It’s a framework that provides time in my day to do everything that I want. I have time to exercise, time to study, time to work, and time to play. It requires that I diligently adhere to a schedule before my kids wake up and after they go to bed, which is a major stumbling block.
My four beautiful children are still small and innocent. They sit at the kitchen bar to watch me make breakfast, they crawl on my lap while I work on my computer. They constantly ping me throughout the day to share every single thing that they see, hear, and do. The cacophony of three little voices, plus the happy noises of an infant, fill my days.
My temptation is to just make it through the day from breakfast until their heads hit their pillows. If I can do that, then I can eke out a few minutes to work on my priorities and projects. That’s the wrong approach. In these days, weeks, and years when their sweet innocence draws them close to me, I need to reach out and embrace them.
This is the time that we build the relationship that we’ll share for my lifetime. These are the days when they store the memories of “my dad” growing up. This is my chance to make a real impact on their formation, to set them up on a course to go through life confident in their identity as human persons.
There’s real work to be done. These are not the days to take for granted.
Praying As A Parent
For nearly three years, I’ve done most of my shopping via pickup. From time to time, though, I need to go into the store to make a return. Doing that with four kids plus the item to be returned is no easy task. One night last week, with the kids in their pajamas and ready for bed, I left the house to run some errands.
I had six stops to make, and within 90 minutes, I was at home on the couch watching television with Alison and Veronica. I moved with precision and efficiency from store to store. Having four kids in the back while we pick up orders from multiple stores is no big deal. When making returns, it’s easier for me to go it alone.
My life is like that for many tasks. I can move quicker without little hands following behind me. I can sort laundry in half the time and only have to fold it once. I can get the dishes put away without a single dropped glass or bumped knee. While it may be easier or faster for me to work alone, I shouldn’t.
It used to be that the kids wouldn’t be ready to come down from their rooms in the morning until 8:00am. These days, they’re ready to go at 6:30am. Those 90 minutes that I used to be spent in prayer or reading the news are now theirs. Why should I give up my prayer time?
My primary prayer is the monthly edition of Maginificat. The work is all planned out for me, all I need to do is find the time to sit down, open the book, and be still. While I love the solitude of morning prayer, praying with children is joyful and satisfying, too.
The wonderful thing about children is that their minds are alert when they’re at play. If they’re moving around, they’re listening and learning. Here’s my new plan: wake up, go for my walk, and get ready for my day. Then, with the littles rolling around on the carpet in the playroom, I’ll brew my coffee, sit down on the couch, and pray out loud. It won’t be as peaceful, but it will be as beautiful.
Parenting, like gardening, isn’t about efficiency. It’s about patience. The daily work of pruning ensures that my little saplings have all the nurturing and attention that they need. Nothing nurtures a child’s heart like being taught how to pray.
Life with Four
I bring a lot of structure and process to my life. During the day, when I’m alone with my children, I need that support. I need to have decisions pre-made for me so that when it’s time to go, I only have to execute. Sometimes I use these ready-made solutions for safety, like the order in which we get into and out of the van (everyone uses a single, passenger side door). At other times, it’s just for simplicity (I always arrange my children’s plates on the counter in the same order).
The nice thing about parenting is that it’s something that you grow into. You start with an immobile baby, who over several months starts to wiggle, crawl, and then walk. You don’t have to know everything on day one, you only have to be ready to adjust incrementally each day.
Earlier this year, when I had three independent children to take care of, managing our daily activities and movements was no big deal. I evolved into that role, and we were a finely tuned machine. Of course, that changed, as of today, with Veronica here and Alison back at work.
I’m not sure there’s an “easy” number of children; I think that caring for any number of children is always hard. I know how to care for an infant, a toddler, and big kid. Now I just need to pull those pieces together to get acclimated to my new normal.
My life is very full, even when we mostly spend our days at home. Juggling different feeding schedules, balancing everyone’s needs, and taking care of me is my current struggle. For me to operate at a high level, I need to not take the easy route of neglecting myself. I’m not going to be a good dad or a good teacher or a good playmate if I don’t get to my morning coffee at a reasonable hour. The same is true if I skip meals. A balance must be struck, and it’s one that I need to find. Taking caring of me is the best way that I can prepare for taking care of my kids.
People have told me over the years that the hardest number of children to have is three and any more than that is easy. Yeah, that’s not true.
Troops
I came up in the Boy Scouts program, rising from the 1st Grade Tigers program to the rank of Eagle Scout. Along the trail, I learned many life skills. That achievement was a direct result of the constant support of my parents as I progressed through the ranks. As a military child who moved frequently, Scouts formed the third pillar of external stability in my life, aside from Church and school. No matter where we went, the Scouts were there.
Back in 2013, I was an employee of the Boy Scouts when they began their bazaar series of reversals. To that point, I dreamed of the day that I would lead Benedict’s den in Cub Scouts and beyond. I imagined him following in my steps and starting our own family line of Eagle Scouts. It became clear to me, even in those early days of the crisis, that the venerable institution of the Boy Scouts was collapsing under the weight of a cultural tsunami. Lacking an alignment of values, I walked away from the organization, never to return.
In that same year, I followed with excitement the answer to this collapse. The Troops of St. George was founded with a unique take on a traditional outdoors character development program for boys. It’s more than just being Catholic-specific. The truly revolutionary concept that the Troops embraced was that instead of being a drop-off program, it’s a drop-in program. Fathers participate and advance in tandem with their sons. The meetings, camp-outs, and activities have specific time for fathers and sons to work together, apart from other families. This is about more than building characters or building men, it’s about providing a context and space for the father/son relationship to be cultivated and deepened.
Benedict and I joined a local troop earlier this year. We made it on one campout before lock-downs prematurely ended the program year. While we were only out for one night, I immediately noticed a difference in our relationship. Out of the house, away from his sisters, he was a totally different person. He was over-the-moon excited, especially for celebrating Mass in a field under the tent. To be frank, he’s a really cool kid. That experience gave me the chance to see my son as he truly is, and it was a delight.
I volunteered to help lead the program. In that way, I’m fulfilling my dream of leading Benedict through a character development program. The skills that I acquired as a volunteer and a professional in the Boy Scouts has helped us as we get our Troop organized. Although the Scouts are an organization that I no longer recognize, the values that they espoused while I was in the program are durable.
Parenting is difficult for all fathers. We begin the challenge when we still view ourselves as young and inexperienced. With the help of other adults, programs, and institutions, we’re aided in our mission. As a father of a son, I’ve found the Troops of St. George to be particularly helpful in my vocation to raise him as a man.
Default to Yes
A new school year is upon us. For many parents, September is like a second January, a natural point in the year when we review our life, our goals, and our aspirations. For me, I want to change something in my relationship with my children.
My life is very busy with many small jobs. I don’t have the pressure of an external employer, but I do have the obligations of maintaining a home. Cleaning, laundry, and the daily tidying and maintenance tasks find a way of expanding to the available time that I have throughout the day; I’m constantly in motion. Invariably, at some point during the day while I’m checking things off of my list, one of my children approaches me with a request. They want to play a game with me, build with me, or do some sort of activity with me. I know that if I stop what I’m working on, I have to push that to-do off to the very limited 60 minutes I have in the evening between when the kids go to bed and I start to wind down for the evening.
My default answer right now is no. I’d like to change my default to yes.
I’d like to jump at these little opportunities to play with my children, to build our relationships, and to enjoy our company. I’m all too aware that these cute little ones will soon be too big and too busy for me. Besides, is what I’m working on really all that urgent? Surely it can be put off for another time.
So that’s my resolution for the new school year. When my kids come to me with a request to play, create, or build, I will default to yes.
Teaching Kids Why
Our society is suffering from an intellectual sickness. We lack curiosity. Ideas are no longer challenged and explored, but instead are accepted on their face. This lack of curiosity is leading many to believe the false notion that faith has no role to play in the life of the post-modern man.
Teaching my kids anything, let alone the truth and beauty of Catholicism, is challenging. I have to find a way to clearly and succinctly express an idea, while ensuring that I’ve broken it down into a way that they can grasp. There are many resources to help me, but at the end of the day, my kids receive the message from me.
I was talking to a friend recently, and we discusses the idea that it’s no longer enough to teach the faith from a standpoint of authority. It’s not enough to share the truth, but we must share the why behind it. Too many people walk away from the Church each year. If they only had a spark of curiosity, they’d be led to the beautiful why behind every practice and tenet.
I’m not sure the best way to help my children learn to appreciate and refine their sense of curiosity. I do know that if I can spark that interest in them, they will eventually find what they’re seeking. It’s not enough to give them the Magisterium as as justification for why we believe what we believe. I must also give them the why for our joy.
Consistency
About the time that dinner ends each evening, I crash. My energy runs out, and I want nothing more than to get the kids into bed and sit down. Bedtime is a special time for little ones, and a golden opportunity to wrap up your day. It’s hard to embrace it for what it is when you need a break.
On those nights when I’m particularly tired, I’m tempted to skip elements of bedtime. Whether it be brushing teeth, reading a story, singing a song, or even family prayers, I always tell myself the lie that we can just do it tomorrow. I easily believe that one night won’t make a difference, but in a way, it does.
Bedtime routines aren’t just about the boxes getting checked, it’s a time for us all to be together. It’s a time to take care of each other emotionally, physically, and spiritually. It’s a subtle signal to tired little bodies that the day is done and it’s time to dream of angels.
Being consistent as a parent is the hardest thing to do, but it’s the most important thing to do. Building a framework for your children’s days helps them to know where they are and where they stand. If you brush their teeth every morning and every evening, they know that it’s something important to do. The same is true with family prayers and reading a story.
Consistency requires energy, but more importantly, it requires discipline. Perhaps it’s time for me to look at my schedule and see how I can preserve energy for another 15 minutes at the end of their day to ensure a smooth transition into bed.
Cherish Your Children
After several months of vacation, I’ve gotten back into my routine of walking each morning before the kids get up. My day can be very exhausting, so by getting my mind and body right before the sun comes up, I’m better prepared to take on the challenges of being a stay-at-home parent.
In the big picture, it’s easy to say that I love my children, that I cherish them, and that I value them as human persons. In the day-to-day, it’s much more difficult. To be a parent is to be the ultimate servant. My name is invoked more times per minute than Alexa. Every day, I complete the same tasks, some of which are quite unpleasant, for the sake of their health and welfare.
If I cherish my children, and I want there to be no doubt of my love in their little minds and hearts, then I need to arrange my life to communicate that. They must come first in my day. When they’re awake, my time looking at a screen needs to be minimal. If I want to go on a walk without distraction, I need to do it while they’re fast asleep. Anything that I must accomplish needs to be scheduled so that I can involve them or do it while they’re playing or coloring.
It’s a tall order. In fact, it’s nearly impossible. Trying to meet this high standard regularly brings me to my breaking point. But my son won’t be six forever, and my daughter won’t be toddling for much longer. I can do anything for a short period of time. Plus. I’ll have all the time in the world to enjoy the silence and a slower pace when they’ve grown and moved out on their own. For today, for right now, I need to be rolling around on the floor with them.
Seeking Rest
As the stay-at-home parent in my family, I struggle with the tension of rest. There are some days when I feel completely drained and I can’t wait for Alison to walk in the door so that someone else can take over watching the kids. The dilemma is that I know that Alison has been busy working all day, too. How can I reconcile handing off the kids when I know that she’s been through more than me? What do you do when you feel exhausted and know there’s no break on the horizon?
I’ve found that with for growth leap and schedule change that my kids go through, I simply have to adapt. There are things that I must do. I must go to bed at the same time and wake up at the same time. I must eat three meals a day, plus a snack or two. I must drink water. Outside of those needs, the key to feeling rested is not what it seems.
When I feel too tired to pick up or clean the kitchen, that’s exactly what I need to do. I get a burst of energy from accomplishing something. Plus, I always feel better the next day when I don’t have to start by finishing up what I didn’t get done the day before. There’s something about a lack of clutter that is relaxing. The same is true for exercise. My preferred exercise is walking for an hour, or about 4 miles. That steady pace over the course of 60 minutes always leaves me pumped up for the day.
Rest is something deep; it’s finding a sense of peace. You can only get that peace when you fulfill your responsibilities and take care of your physical needs. That may mean waking up earlier, trying a different order of to-dos, or even including your kids in your wellness routine. Laziness likes to dress itself up as rest, but it’s a mistake to fall for that.
When you feel tired and you still have lots more to do, especially at the end of the day, find something that you love and incorporate into your tasks. Enjoy the uninterrupted time, listen to an audiobook or a podcast, or maybe even your parent-only dance mix. You might be surprised just how rested you feel the next morning.
Not from Scratch
I woke up at my normal time on Saturday morning, went for my walk, came home, and got ready for the day. I walked into the kitchen at about the same time that I normally do each morning. The only difference from any other weekday on that cold December morning is that my whole family was still fast asleep in their warm beds. I pulled out a box of muffin mix and spent twenty minutes baking a dozen fresh blueberry muffins.
The mix was less than $2 at the grocery store, and the directions consisted of me putting paper muffin liners in the muffin pan, mixing three ingredients with a spoon, and putting the whole thing in the oven. I didn’t have to wake up before dawn to pull off this fresh breakfast, nor did I use an old family recipe. It was a simple deviation in my schedule that put a delicious treat on our Saturday morning breakfast table.
It’s easy to feel paralyzed when you want to do something nice for your family. Between HGTV, the Food Network, and all of your social feeds, you’re inundated with perfection, made from scratch projects and food dishes. Maybe you’ve even tried in the past to treat your family with something from one of those shows or pictures, only for your final project to look not at all like theirs.
Perfection is mythology; don’t need to reinvent the wheel just to do something nice for your family. A box of muffin mix after baking results in the same end product as pulling out eight different ingredients to make them from scratch. When you sit down at the table, you’re eating a muffin. The point is that you baked muffins, not how you put the batter together.
Life is complicated enough. Making an effort is what’s important. Make the effort.