Fatherhood
Do Nothing
My day has a way of getting away from me. For the first 90 minutes that I’m up, I’m in complete control. I walk, read the paper, pray, drink coffee. It’s quiet, still, and orderly. As soon as the first pair of small feet come down the stairs, everything goes out the window.
I’m more flexible in our schedule than I used to be. I don’t have rigid timetables, just daily task lists. We finish breakfast around 8:30am and start our schoolwork. Of course, if they’re playing nicely, creatively, and quietly, I let things slide.
One of the more challenging parts of having four children is spending one-on-one time with each of them. The day is mostly playing, work, or activity in groups of two, three, or four. Each of my kids has a distinct personality when they’re in a group setting. It’s when I get them alone that things get interesting. They don’t have to compete for my attention, they have it.
When I take Benedict to our monthly father/son activity, he says the most insightful things in the car ride. It reminds me of just how grown up he really is. Felicity is very bubbly, but she’s especially sweet and cheerful when we’re alone together. Lucy can be crabby, but she loves snuggling close to me. Veronica, of course, is happy all the time. But there’s a particular delight when she has you alone.
The busyness of the waking hours keeps us all moving. While I have a lot to do, maybe I need to add “Do Nothing” to my list. Permission to stop, pull one of my kids aside, and do nothing with them for a few minutes.
I know that these days are racing by, and as my children grow and mature, our relationship won’t always be this easy. The window of opportunity is open, I need to jump through it and do nothing.
Humble Fatherhood
This November is the two-year anniversary of the release of my book Humble Service, a book about the lessons learned on my journey as an at-home dad. The topic of that book, like this blog, is a part of my identity as a student of life.
St. Francis preached the virtue of constant renewal, a lifelong process of making yourself into a reflection of Christ. I want things to be done with immediate effect, but there’s too much work to be done. Knowing that I can work each day on bettering myself is more manageable.
I want to do more of my jobs with a servant’s heart. Yes, I always feed my children first and tend to their daily hygiene. But what about my disposition? Do I do it begrudgingly? Some days. I want to do it with love more frequently.
I want to have more humility and show more grace. I want to keep in mind that my children are still small people, learning their way in the world. I want to set high expectations for them, and help them when they don’t rise to the moment. I want to show them that the proper response to adversity isn’t stress and frustration, but patient acceptance.
What could be the fruits of these changes? Domestic tranquility, sure. But what about higher life satisfaction? Reaching the end of the day and not reflecting that I stayed home and took care of the kids, but instead that I nurtured young souls with love. I may even experience less internal complaining.
Fatherhood is not about being the boss, but about accepting responsibility with love. It’s hard to do perfectly, but I can probably do a better job of it tomorrow.
A Quiet House
On Saturday morning, I woke up at 5:00am and went for a walk. I came home, sat down, and read the news. This is a pretty normal morning for me. Just after 7:00am, three of my children came downstairs very excited. The day that they were waiting for had finally arrived!
Just after breakfast, I loaded them up in the car and drove them to the airport. There, they met my parents, and flew back to their house for a week’s vacation.
It was a quiet drive home, and a return to a quiet house. Alison and I suddenly found ourselves parents with only one child needing our care. I found myself thrown back to my first days as an at-home dad.
On a normal day, I crave the calm and quiet of the after-bedtime hours. Now that I have a quiet house, I crave the joy that my children bring to our home.
The kids will be back at the end of the week. While they’re away, I have a full schedule of cleaning, house projects, and catching up on projects that I normally don’t have time to accomplish. It’ll be a different pace for me, a different schedule, and a chance to have more room to breathe.
Missing my children deeply reminds me of the essential truth of children. Society may shun them as an added responsibility, but that toxic worldview misses the point. Children are a beautiful gift and a source of great joy.
A Father’s Love
What is the measure of a good father? Is it the serenity in his house, the manicured lawn, or perhaps just food on the table every evening? All men contemplate their self-worth. This is an intellectual process that naturally occurs in life. The easiest answer is in the economic value that they produce for their family. While helpful, a utilitarian approach denies the most important contribution a father makes. The true value of a father is his love.
Men show love in many ways that fall outside the common notion of affection. A birthday gift of a pocketknife for his wife may be, in his mind, the best gift he can give. He sees the knife as an omnipresent tool, ready to jump in and help from the most menial tasks to those where life and property are under threat. To his wife receiving this gift, he may be the tool.
What men may fail to express in words, they express in action. In the early minutes of the day or as the evening’s twilight fades, he lifts his family up in prayer. Little girls often find themselves on their dad’s lap, quietly watching a movie or reading a book. Sons may receive exclusive invitations to outdoor adventures or even just trips into towns. Wives drive clean cars and enjoy a carefully tended to lawn.
The true measure of a man, and his success as a father, begins simply. It’s his presence. In words and deeds, on good days and bad, he’s there, ready to give his family whatever they need.
Invest Today
My knowledge as a parent goes only as far as my oldest child. I know how to deal with young kids, but am clueless about pre-teens, teens, and beyond. I understand that the journey of a parent is about growing and nurturing a child to become a healthy, functional adult. There are plenty of pitfalls along the path to autonomy and independence. I can only control so many variables because, in the end, my goal is not control. Like God, I do not want robot children. I want children who can stand on their own two feet, live up to their potential, contribute meaningfully to society, and live a fruitful life.
If I can’t control what influences my children will come under in the decades to come, I need to invest in them today. My job as a parent is to prepare them to live a moral life. That is not the easy path, especially today when even the most elemental facts of the human person are in dispute. I can’t shield and protect them always, but I can plant the seeds that will take root before the poison enters the soil.
We live in a busy world full of distractions, most notably the electronic rectangles that hang on our walls, sit on our desks, rest on our kitchen counters, and go with us everywhere in our pockets. If I want to raise those healthy, functional adults, I need to take the time to invest in my children and our relationship today.
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.