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.
Pandemic Confession
I’ve made no secret that I’m a frequent recipient of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Once or twice a month, I leave my house on a Saturday afternoon to renew myself. Despite years of this spiritual practice, I still find myself in need of a regular spiritual tune-up. I’m grateful to have a confessor locally who is both patient and gentle with me. This year, as with everything, things have been different.
In the first few months of the shutdowns, I wasn’t able to receive the Sacrament at all. The Church doors were locked and all scheduled Sacraments canceled. I’m sure that I could’ve scheduled an appointment, but the grace of anonymity is among the greatest that the Sacrament bestows, aside from forgiveness, of course. In those early weeks, I was very disciplined spiritually. I was locked in and focused. My need for Reconciliation was less intense. Knowing that the Sacrament wasn’t so easily attained, I found it easier to do the right thing.
When the Churches first reopened, I went to Confession outside. The priest and I sat outside in the Church courtyard. We sat at opposite ends of a folding table and a line of people stood nearby. I’d be okay never having that experience again.
As the reality of how delicate life truly is set in, I’ve spent a lot of time pondering how well I’m living the life that I profess. I’ve considered my track record within my vocation and as a father. Without the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I could never rise to this high calling. My shortcomings would prevent me from living as the person, husband, and father that God has called me to be.
There are many lessons that we will each take from 2020 and this experience. I hope that one of those life changes that I walk away with is a greater sense of humility. Without God, without His Church, and without the Sacraments, I am nothing.
Reading Together
Filling up every minute of the day with activity for my kids is a real struggle. My kids are always up for adventure or doing something new, but each day presents the same challenge. How can we spend our day in a way that allows my children to grow and me to thrive?
Each day is different. Children wake up at different times, in different moods, and with different energy levels. The same is true for me. I’m not the same dad every morning. Some days I’m revving my engine ready to go, and others I’m counting down to bedtime.
It’s easy for me to set an agenda for the day, but filling those little empty moments that bubble up throughout the day is hard for me. Those moments show up in the in-between time from when the morning is almost over, but it’s not quite time to start making lunch. It happens again in the afternoon lull when I want to just close my eyes for a few minutes, but my kids need something else to get them over the hump. Even just a quick 20-minute car ride might need some sort of activity.
Last year I read a book called The Read Aloud Family. Research confirms that children benefit greatly from having stories read to them. Listening to stories helps their minds to grow. They learn to understand sentence structure, plot development, vocabulary, and more generally stimulates learning. Children who have wide exposure to reading perform better academically and grow into better readers themselves.
Those in-between times are the perfect daily opportunity to pick up a book and reading it aloud to my children is the perfect time filler. It’s a calming activity that allows me to be fully in charge of the energy levels. In the car, we’ve listened to audiobooks. We can then discuss the stories, the characters, and I can ask questions that place my children in the plot.
Time spent reading aloud to my children is more than education, it’s bonding. It’s special time in our day when we can sit next to each other, snuggled on the couch, and explore a new world together. I hope that this simple activity builds not only their curiosity and academic prowess, but memories of us that they’ll treasure forever.
The New Evangelization Stumbles
Getting to Mass on a weekday is hard for me, and that was before the pandemic. The difficulty is not handling my four kids by myself for half an hour. It’s getting everyone up, dressed, fed, and in the pew by 8:30am. Lately our parish switched Mass times for the weekday liturgies to 5:00pm, another challenge for parents of little ones.
The Mass is central to our Catholic faith. The lockdowns earlier this year highlighted just how big of a role that weekly liturgy plays in the rhythm of our weeks. Without the Mass and the Eucharist, we’ve been marooned in a spiritual desert.
During those difficult weeks, with tremendous gratitude to the ministries that stepped up to the plate, our separation was more bearable. Like many businesses, parishes used their creativity to help us all cope. Parish rosaries have been prayed over teleconference, new homily podcasts have been published, Eucharistic Adoration has been live-streamed on YouTube, and the Mass, that sacred celebration, recorded and uploaded for viewing on any schedule.
This pandemic continues to reshaped our lives in new and different ways. It’s a disruptive event, and I was glad that it shook the Catholic Church awake. All of these new ways to experience and express our faith, in community while apart, enriched my family’s life. We were more connected than we had ever been to the daily life of the Church.
I quickly keyed in on the Word on Fire Daily Mass. A ministry started by Bishop Robert Barron, Word on Fire is a digital education and evangelization platform that teaches topics of faith. They’re uniquely suited to record and publish the daily Mass because they’re a digital first organization.
My family attended Mass with Word on Fire for two main reasons. First, we knew that Bishop Barron is a legitimate Catholic priest, so the Masses we attended were valid. Second, since they’re so experienced with video production and distribution, the production values were very high. The camera angle, lighting, and audio were all carefully considered so we could focus on prayer and not poor lighting or distant audio.
Imagine my disappointment when Word on Fire announced at the end of May that they would stop uploading their Daily Mass. Weekend liturgies would have 144,000 or more views while the weekday Masses averaged 65,000 views.
The average Catholic parish in America would be lucky to have 50 people attend Mass on a weekday, and here Word on Fire was touching tens of thousands of people every single day.
In their announcement, Word on Fire cited that public Masses were resuming in California and that they never intended for their Daily Masses to be published on an ongoing basis. They also expressed their desire for people to return to their parishes. Their points are taken.
Even so, no matter how justified, what a terrible mistake.
The lesson for us to take away from the pandemic is that we need more avenues for expressing our faith. The Domestic Church, that idea that the family is at the core of the spiritual life of a person, needs the support of external resources. We harnessed new technologies, quickly, and started praying together in new ways.
Further, I wonder how many lost Catholics, or even just Catholic-curious people, were drawn to the Church through these new and modern methods.
Sadly, as the lockdowns lifted, many parishes and ministries ceased these operations. It was a heartbreaking stumble to watch. The New Evangelization demands that we use new methods and the technology that we have to spread the Gospel. This pandemic was the perfect excuse for us to try new things and experiment. When you try something novel and half a million people show up every week, you don’t just turn it off because it took some extra effort.
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.
Eight
It’s been a very fast eight years since Alison and I met at the altar and committed ourselves to one another. Each year on this blog, I like to take the opportunity to reflect. As I sat down to write this year’s post, I realized that I have little new to offer.
We may not be the same people that we were on the first day of the rest of our lives, but our commitment is the same. The values that we share, the home that we’ve built, it’s the same.
The lessons that I’ve learned, re-learned, and written about in this space are the same. I need to continue to love and to serve, to put myself last, and to always defer to the needs of my wife and family.
We have four children now, four wholly new creations only made possible but the love that’s shared in our marriage, but at our core, it’s still Alison and I.
We’re reaching the mid-stage of our relationship. The early days are now behind us as our relationship continues to mature. We will face new challenges as we transition and adapt. The struggle of marriage continues, but we approach these changes with a more solid footing.
We have many years ahead of us. We have many years ahead of us. May we continue to grow deeper in love on the journey.
Answered Prayers
In the months leading up to my daughter’s birth, I was anxious. Both of her sisters took nearly two weeks to make it home from the hospital. The emotional drain of maintaining two households, even for just that short period of time, weighed heavily on me. 2020 is a year unlike any other. The last thing that I wanted was a two week hospital stay in the middle of the pandemic. So I took it up in prayer.
I developed a very specific intention, outlining precisely what it is that I wanted: a safe delivery, admission to the well baby floor, and a quick discharge. For 54 days, I prayed a rosary every day for that intention. I offered Masses and prayers throughout my day. It was my single focus.
As the delivery drew closer and my novena wound down, I felt the need to humble myself. It was my deepest desire for my family to be together and home recovering quickly, but not if she truly needed help. I reminded myself, and prayed, for God’s Will to be done, not my own.
Waiting in the hospital, I felt myself losing control. I was minutes away from seeing whether or not my prayer would be answered. As I felt myself spiral, I brought myself back to prayer. It was the moment of truth.
Veronica arrived, and immediately was doing better than her sisters. She still needed help. I prayed more. They took her over to intensive care on a six hour observation clock. If she improved, she could avoid admission. If she didn’t turn the corner, it was another long admission.
They got Veronica all set up in her room. I turned off the lights, pulled the shades, and turned on some soft music. I sat down by her bed and held her hand. There, in her first hour of life, we prayed the rosary aloud together.
As it happened, the hospital was so busy that they had no room for Alison, so they brought her over to us. It’s not protocol, and typically isn’t allowed, but it happened. It was then that God showed us His power.
Hour by hour, she grew stronger. By the sixth hour, she was cleared to go to the well baby floor. Two days later, we were all heading home.
Throughout this process, I struggled with doubt, with anxiety, and with disbelief. What is trusting God, what is testing Him? These are very human experiences with prayer. God knows our hearts, He can read us better than we even know ourselves.
I didn’t pray the 54 day novena perfectly, but I did pray it faithfully. God is waiting to show us His power, if only we’ll give Him enough room to work.
Together
It’s amazing what spouses can do when they work together. Alison and I are fast approaching our eight year anniversary. While we’re still in early innings, it’s terribly sad how many marriages never make it to this point.
It’s been a busy eight years. We’ve welcomed home our fourth child into our third home. We’ve fought through illnesses, hospitalizations, job changes, certification exams, parenting, travel, and so much more. With each obstacle, with each challenge, we’ve faced it together. It’s our family, our home, our money, our budget, our everything. There’s never a question; it’s us.
We’ve also managed to hit goals that we set for ourselves a full decade ago. Keeping focus, inspiration, and determination over that period of time is no easy task; it is easier when you do it together.
Therein lies the true beauty of marriage. Not perfection, perseverance. Not selfishness, unity. Not emotion, total surrender. Together we can, and we will, do anything.
Start
I have a subscription to Magnificat that I’ve had for over a year now. It’s a wonderful prayer companion, filled each month with fresh perspectives, profiles, and articles. Central to each day’s prayer routine is morning prayer, evening prayer, the readings from Mass, and a short reflection.
The thing that I like most about Magnificat is that it’s all put together for me. One simple book, delightful design, and new content, delivered to my mailbox every month. I don’t have to do any planning other than deciding at what time I’m going to pray.
For the first several months, I moved through it with ease. I would do Morning Prayer and the readings from Mass before the kids were up, and Evening Prayer right before bed. We changed our clocks, Spring arrived, and suddenly I ran out of time to complete my full morning prayer time.
I grew discouraged. Each day felt like I was accomplishing less and less of my daily prayer plan. It’s a story that’s a common refrain on this blog over the past seven years.
I don’t know what it is about human nature that craves perfection. It’s an all-or-nothing mindset that demands that we do things absolutely perfect or not even try at all. It assumes that spending only half of the planned period of time in prayer is worse than spending no time in prayer. There’s also that tendency to skip an entire day or week if I mess up even one small part of my plan, in vain hope of a “fresh start” at some point later.
I don’t need a fresh start tomorrow or next week or next month. I need a fresh start right now. I need prayer to bring calm, peace, balance, and rest into my life right now, today.
Plans are wonderful things and they can be a marker to move us in the right direction. Deviation from them, especially in the realm of prayer, isn’t a failure; it’s life. God doesn’t expect me, or my prayer, to be perfect. That’s why He gives me grace and the Sacraments. What He does expect, what He yearns for, is a few minutes of my day when I set everything down, place my whole self in His presence, and we share an intimate connection.