Discovering Fatherhood

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Jesus in the Bathroom: The Mundane & Sacred

The picture above is from one of our bathrooms. We have a crucifix in every room in our home to help us remember that God is always present. In the bathroom where this photo is from, I placed the crucifix in this basket. It wasn’t that I ran out of nails, or that there wasn’t a good spot on the wall. I remember putting it in this basket because it felt natural—Jesus amongst the normal everyday mundane stuff.

St. Josemaria Escriva has an amazing quote that has always stuck with me, “Either we learn to find our Lord in ordinary, everyday life, or we shall never find him.” This crucifix in the bathroom reminds me of this reality: that our lives are always filled with the mundane and the sacred.

So my wife, daughter and I were at Mass like any normal Sunday afternoon. We were praying and trying to keep the 2-year-old from crawling under the pew. My wife and I take turns holding Claire and helping her to experience Church as best a 2-year-old can. Sometimes it is easy. Most times it is challenging.

After communion I’ve made it a habit of having Claire sit on my lap to pray with my wife and I as a family so that she recognizes the sacredness of this moment. For Catholics, when we receive the consecrated bread and wine we believe that it is the true, real and total presence of Jesus (the same Christ that walked on earth 2000 years ago). So it’s a big deal for us to emphasize this moment with Claire. Claire will normally sit on me, close her eyes and put her hands together to pray. On this particular Sunday she did the same. As we sat enjoying this moment of grace it was interrupted by the mundane reality of a full bladder.

As I realized that Claire had completely unloaded on me I stood up and sure enough it was dead smack on the middle of my pants crotch region. I sighed out loud, picked Claire up and headed to the bathroom while holding her a little lower than normal to shield myself. In the bathroom I laughed out loud. The urine spot on my khakis’ looked as if I was the one who peed on myself. I laughed out louder at the irony of it and Claire asked, “What’s funny Papi?” I responded, “Life baby. Life is funny.”

Claire and I bolted through the main door of the Church and headed to the car. Claire was maintained at crotch level in case we bumped into anyone. We made it to the car and waited for my wife to meet us. As I sat in the car I smiled and thought of Escriva’s quote, “Either we learn to find our Lord in ordinary, everyday life, or we shall never find him.” It is so true.

Claire peeing on me did cause us to get up and leave the Church, but what I realized is that it hadn’t changed the moment of grace we were experiencing. Grace came with us to the bathroom and was with us as we laughed. The sacred was with us as I cleaned myself, as I thought of how embarrassing it would be to have to explain this to someone as we left the Church. The bathroom was not the typical place we experience prayer and grace, but it was this Sunday.

The things we consider mundane and ordinary typically dominate our lives. These ordinary, mundane things are not bad; they are good and certainly necessary. More importantly I believe God is present in these ordinary moments. Maybe for you its experiencing God while cleaning up a mess your kid made, or dealing with the chaos of a work situation, maybe its experiencing a moment of grace in traffic when you are bumper to bumper on the interstate. Rarely do we have experiences of the sacred in perfect, extraordinary situations. Not too many of us can say that an angel appeared, or a light shone down on us, and a voice from heaven spoke. Most of the time the sacred presents itself in the ordinary everyday situation. Thank God for that because I personally don’t find myself in many extraordinary situations.

When I stare at the crucifix in our bathroom I am reminded that all moments are sacred. That whatever is happening right now is a moment of grace if I can see it. Do you see God in your mundane, everyday ordinary moments? Look again. You might just find Him in the most extraordinarily ordinary of places.

September 28, 2015
Nap Time Woes

At a blissful time in our daughter’s young life we were getting two, 3-hour naps a day. It was amazing. The amount of stuff that my wife and I could do was quite impressive. I personally broke the first 3 hours into chores, followed by the second 3-hour nap with some TV, video games, or napping myself. There were moments when Claire’s first nap wasn’t a full three hours, but that was okay—you always had the second nap to make up for it.

The day finally came when that late morning nap disappeared. I wasn’t informed. There was no, “Hey dad you might wanna brace yourself for this.” It was taken from me. I’m not going to lie; there were some man tears shed over the loss of the first nap. Eventually, I was able to pull through and condense all I needed to do into the only remaining 3-hour nap. Many an awesome project had been accomplished via the naptime we had left. Rebuilding the patio deck and painting/remodeling the downstairs basement were the major things (each took 3 months worth of nap-time, and bed time sleep).

I think that dreaded day is almost here. I knew it would come, but I don’t want it to be here already! In the last few weeks my wife and I have both noticed its presence slowly creeping in. Of course, I am alluding to Claire not napping anymore.

(Pause for man tears)

The last few days Claire has not napped. Honestly, it is my fault. The Saturday it first happened we were visiting family and Claire was playing with her cousin. My mom didn’t think to put them down, and honestly they didn’t show signs of sleepiness. The next day I made sure I put her down for her nap. I had her milk, storybook and doll all set up. Claire went to her room and climbed into bed without an issue. “Have a good nap” was said, and I proceeded to go and read for a while. I could hear Claire playing in the room through the monitor. It was clear that there would be no nap in that room. ‘She might need me to go in there and remind her’ I thought to myself. I went in and told her to settle down, but 5 minutes later she was hollering, “Papi, come here!”

There are those moments in life where one is left baffled at what to do, say or think. This is one of those moments.

September 5, 2015
Don’t Make Eye Contact!

Every now and then our daughter will do things that we want her to do without having to tell her. I know it’s shocking to me too. Examples of such things range from eating all the food on her plate, to cleaning up after a coloring session, or simply sitting quietly while playing with her toys. Usually I am thrilled to see that Claire will do these things without us having to say anything. I will stare at her as she chomps away at her food. I will smile proudly as she cleans up her messes. I will gaze in wonder as I see my little girl’s imagination at work while she plays.

And that’s usually when it all goes down hill. When we make eye contact.

As I stare at my daughter from across the room she gets the sense that I am looking at her and if our eyes lock it causes her to snap out of her good-behavior-mode. It’s the weirdest thing in the world. Claire will go from well-behaved kid to insane toddler in a matter of seconds. I’m not really sure why my wife or I locking eyes with her can cause Claire to change what she is doing, but we have quickly realized that if we do not want to interrupt her calm, cool and collected moments we cannot make eye contact with her.

I recently read an article that says that the human mind can actually sense when someone is staring at you—it is quite fascinating. There is a “gaze detection system” in our brain that is responsible for recognizing when someone is staring at you. There are clear benefits to this but when it comes to our toddler we have realized that we do not want to be detected by the said system. When Claire’s “gaze detection system” gets her to lock eyes with us she will stop eating, recognize that she was cleaning up instead of making a mess, or realize that she has been quiet for more than a minute and therefore must do a lap around the house while screaming at the top of her lungs.

As with most things toddler, there is a balance with how you deal with them. Apparently locking eyes with them is also something that we need to find a sweet spot for. My wife and I will call each other out during dinner if we stare at Claire for too long. “Don’t make eye contact!” will come out of one of our mouths. Quickly we will stare at our plates hoping the “gaze detection system” was not alerted and Claire will continue to eat.

Never a dull moment with these little ones that is for sure!

August 24, 2015
A Palpable Difference

The last few weeks I have noticed a significant change in my relationship with my daughter. I don’t really know how or when it happened but it is palpably different. Claire and I have been hanging out and doing stuff like normal but I find that I am able to interact with her on a deeper level. Maybe it’s the fact that she can communicate with more than the word “no”. Claire is talking so much these days. Her ability to construct full sentences, and express her thoughts and feelings has changed the dynamic between us. I love it.

I know it sounds weird but I feel like I have a relationship with her now. Obviously, my wife and I have been in relationship with Claire since the womb, but the majority of womb to two has been meeting her needs. At this stage we are still meeting her needs, but there is more to it.

We took Claire to an amusement park last week and it was a blast! We had her ride the kiddy rides and she loved them. At one point there was this kids rollercoaster that we got in line for. I was a little apprehensive about it because it jerked around quite a bit. I had decided that I would keep my arm around Claire’s neck for extra support and comfort just in case she freaked out when the coaster started. As we got our lap belts fastened I gave Claire a pep talk, “This is going to go fast baby. Don’t worry I will be here with you ok?” Claire was too excited to care about what I was saying. I positioned my hand around her and was ready for a frightened kid. We had our first drop and Claire had an ear-to-ear grin that was accompanied with a loud “weeeeeee” as her arms were raised in the air. It was awesome.

After we got off the roller coasted my wife and I asked Claire what she wanted to do next and she responded with, “ride again.” We went from ride to ride eventually ending the day at the water park. The whole time Claire and I were hanging out there was this palpable difference. Claire interacted and laughed with us; she would run up to stuff and say, “Papi look!” I would respond with, “Wow! That’s amazing.” My daughter and I are growing in our relationship together and I love every minute of it.

I guess all parents recognize that at some point we will do more than change diapers and feed our kids. The reality of it happening is so cool and moving. This little person that I have the blessing of raising is fun, full of personality and someone I really love spending time with.

August 5, 2015
More Than Grass

Having children makes you do weird things; things that you would never, ever do in normal circumstances. Fathers sell their priced muscle cars that they have worked on for half a decade to purchase a minivan with “stow-n-go” for the sake of more room. Mothers leave their careers that took them years to obtain to stay home and be pooped on, yelled at, and bossed around by little dictators. We will leave our beloved city life in order to move to a quieter suburban home because the school districts are better there, but the parties are lamer.

And sometimes we buy grass.

Yes that is an awkward sentence. It is one of the weirdest things I have ever done since having a child. My wife and I were fortunate enough to buy a home early on in our marriage. The house had everything we needed and it was move in ready. When Claire was born the back yard began to be an issue for me. I now saw it with “daddy eyes.” The ground was rocky and uneven. The grass, or to be more precise, the weeds, were not inviting. There was this awkward spot in a corner where we had a ton of pea gravel and glass. It literally looked like someone took a pickup truck full of pea gravel and dumped it there and then smashed bottles over it. Needless to say the yard was not inviting and was more of a hazard than a future playing area for my daughter.

As Claire began to crawl I took more notice of the yard. I finally got a landscape company to come out and tell me how much it would cost to fix the yard. We were given a great quote and so began this crazy process of redoing the yard. We put down some Zoisa grass because my wife’s family had grown up with it and it also requires less maintenance. We couldn’t afford to do the whole yard with Zoisa sod, so we had a big patch of it installed by the playground area and we seeded the rest with common seed. I figured the Zoisa grass should go where Claire would walk on the most. Zoisa is a thick type of grass that spreads. Eventually the Zoisa will take over the whole yard. The landscaper suggested I install the Zoisa in the middle of the yard since that would allow all four sides of it to spread at the same rate. It made sense. However, Claire’s playground was on the left corner of our yard and I wanted it there so that she could play on it. The landscaper said, “You realize that one side of the grass will be against those 6×6 beams enclosing the playground, the other will be against the fence separating your neighbors yard, the third stops at your deck, which leaves you with the right side as the only possible spot for the grass to continue to spread out?” Yes I understand. “Sir, you wont maximize on the Zoisas growth that way!?” I know, I said. The landscaper thought I was nuts and I was, but children make us do weird things like buying grass.

This spring we were able to really see the fruit of our landscaping endeavor. The yard is level. The grass is actually grass and not weeds. The playground now sits on top of the pea gravel and is buried by weed cloth and rubber mulch (another ridiculous expense that I would never, ever have made under normal circumstances). My daughter now runs, jumps and tumbles in the yard. I stand on my deck and watch Claire laugh and chase the dog. Claire falls on the grass as her and the neighbors play together. Endless laughter ensues. I smile and take it all in.

It’s more than just grass.

July 6, 2015
Bye, Bye Baby

I walked into my home the other day greeted by the following words from my wife, “Claire is too big to stay in her crib. We need to move her to a toddler bed.” I was puzzled at first.

Baby too big? No crib? Toddler bed?

I responded with a simple, “ok.” My wife began to explain that she had caught our daughter after her nap with her leg over the crib rail and was getting enough momentum to make an escape. When my wife checked to see what the weight and height is for switching to a toddler bed Claire had reached those measurements a while ago.

After eating dinner we spent the next 45 minutes putting together a toddler bed that had been given to us. As I assembled the toddler bed, my wife disassembled the crib. There was that “awww, she’s a big girl!” sentiment, mixed with a “she’s a big…girl…?” feeling. It was really weird. It felt like we were burring someone while new life was springing up right next to it. Claire was super excited at the reality that she was getting a new bed. There was no mourning on her end. No hesitancy to see the comfort of those four walls disappear before her very eyes. Meanwhile I am holding on to an Allen wrench in the fetal position wondering to myself, ‘what is happening?’

They outgrow things: clothes, car seats, and shoes. I have seen Claire outgrow several of these items, but her crib was the last symbol of her “babyness”. It’s definitely a little sad. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. She’s a little girl. I guess I knew this was going to happen and I understand that it is an inevitable part of life, but its weird. Part of me wants Claire to stay a baby so I can hold her longer and experience her in this oh, so short and unique time of life. However, Claire doesn’t want to be held. “I walk!” she says as she squirms from my arms to get to the ground. “I try!” comes out of her mouth as she attempts to figure things out. I step back and let her do it.

This discovering fatherhood journey has so many twist and turns. One minute I think I’ve got it figured out and the next I feel like I’m starting over again. Being a father is awesome but it is painful. As simple and necessary as it is for Claire to transition to a toddler bed a piece of me hurts inside.

It’s part of the process I guess.

June 25, 2015
Blessed

I was listening to the radio this morning and the weather folks were talking about how hot it’s supposed to get. High 80s they said. The radio announcers complained to the weather guy about so much heat. A week ago the same radio station and announcers complained that it was too chilly in the morning—high 50s. Three weeks ago it was in the 70s and felt fantastic. The radio announcer said, “this is great weather, but its not going to last.” It’s easy to denounce this announcer as a whiner, but in reality I, as well as many of us do the same thing. We tend to not be content with what we have before us.

We want more. Better. Newer. Now.

My wife and I recently acquired new-to-us couches from her brother. They are pretty great and we really enjoy them. Undoubtedly, when you change out a piece of furniture the rest doesn’t match anymore and so began a slight design renovation in our home. An accent chair here, a rug there, a piece of wall art and it is starting to have the country sheek look my wife likes. I like it too it’s got this rugged look to it. What I love most about our new living room is the piece of wall art (the header image above). The piece sits right above our new-to-us couch and it’s the first thing that catches your eye when you walk in. Written on the piece is the following statement: “We are truly BLESSED.” It is a simple statement, yet it is one I tend to forget.

We have had the “blessed” piece of wall art for a few weeks now and it is doing things to me I never expected. The piece of art has gone from country sheek décor to a constant reminder of how blessed I truly am. I walk into my home thinking about how I need to finish the basement renovations, redo the flower boxes, worrying about saving money, work, not having enough time, etc. and when my eyes turn to the wall art it stops me and reminds me of my wife, daughter, the fact that I have my own home, that I have a job, that I actually have a savings account with money in it, that I have food in abundance, neighbors that are amazing, that I and my family are healthy…I could go on.

Blessed. So blessed.

I definitely believe God guided my wife to pick this particular piece of wall art not only because it changes the look of our home, but more importantly because it is changing how I see and respond to the blessings before me. When we forget the blessings in our lives our hearts harden. We grow resentful and forget that all of it—life, the stuff, etc.—is a gift. A gift. I’m sure we could have more things, newer things, better things, but the “coulds” are not real. What we do have is.

Sometimes we are like the whinny radio announcer, not content with what is before us. Expecting it to be better and once it does get better we complain about how it will eventually get worse again. That’s no way to live.

What reminds you of your blessings? For me it is a piece of wall art. If you do not have a reminder, search for one. We all need reminders of the blessings in our lives.

May 13, 2015
Piercing Through

Have you ever had one of those days when you find you are sulking in your sadness? Maybe work isn’t going well, or family life is a little nuts. Whatever the case may be you feel down, sad, maybe even depressed. These emotions are very powerful. For some they are crippling.

I had a friend in college that was from Iraq and he would tell me about growing up there during the Desert Storm conflict. This was pretty depressing stuff. There was one thing he said in passing that stuck with me and it wasn’t until now that I recognize its truth and power. This friend recalled the explanation his father gave him in regards to how he kept hope during these difficult times. Although war and conflict surrounded my friend’s life, his father would find peace and comfort in the laughter of children. My friend’s father explained to him that even during something as terrible as war children would play and they would laugh.

Their laughter pierced through war.

Fighting, chaos and death surrounded their lives but laughter; particularly children’s laughter could cut through all of it. This father found the strength to hope not via the government, money, and power but through something as fragile and ungraspable as a child’s laugh.

My first world problems are nothing compared to this friends experience, but the antidote to my moments of sadness is the same–laughter. I can be in the worst of moods and hearing my daughters laugh as she runs throughout the house pierces right through it. Whenever she cracks up and does her full belly laugh I am instantly transported into an experience of joy that is indescribable. Claire’s laughter is brighter and sharper than any darkness, or sadness I can experience.

Laughter, especially that of a child is dripping with joy.

Joy is so necessary in times of sadness and misery. Happiness is an emotion that primarily dependent on a persons mood. I have steak and I am happy. I listen to good music and I am happy. Happiness can be stripped away in seconds because it’s driven by emotions that are affected by our biology (hormones, etc). Joy is different. Joy is something that the soul experiences. A man can be surrounded by war and see destruction (not happy) and still experience joy. A woman’s body can be ripped open as a child is being born (not happy) and yet experience joy. A man can be nailed to a cross (not happy) and experience joy because of what that cross will mean. Joy goes beyond our circumstances. It pierces through them and reveals that although we may not feel happy we have something more powerful at play—joy.

My daughter’s laugh brings me joy even when I am sad, depressed or just blah. It is an incredible gift from someone so small. I think this is why we see such popularity amongst these YouTube videos of children laughing. If you find yourself watching them, the sadness melts away. The pain we may be experiencing isn’t taken away, but joy is given the opportunity to pierce through and that is a beautiful thing.

March 23, 2015
The Little Dictator

The day begins with breakfast. I have made banana pancakes and they are really good. The little dictator has not had a taste of the pancakes but she yells that this is not what she wants. I try to reason with her but she yells and throws her sippy-cup in protest. I go back to the kitchen and prepare something else. I come back into the dinning room and present my new offering. The little dictator is still not pleased. Apparently she is not in a good mood this morning.

Breakfast ends and we head over to the little dictators toy area. The little dictator wants to play and so do I, but I have to use the bathroom. This is not acceptable to her. The little dictator screams “play!” I tell her that I will be very quick and the little dictator screams some more and demands that we play now. I head to the bathroom in defiance and the little dictator pounds on the door demanding that I stop this disobedience and that I return to the room to play. I leave the bathroom and proceed to fulfill her demands.

Playtime starts off pleasant. The little dictator pulls out her blocks and makes a tower. Not more than a few seconds go by and she demolishes the tower. The little dictator smiles ever so slightly and turns her eyes towards me. I am not sure what she is thinking but I wonder if she is trying to send a message.

The little dictator demands that we now color with her markers. I grant her wish and pull out the drawing pad and markers. The little dictator cannot be limited to such a thing as a drawing pad. Her imagination is much bigger than that. It encompasses the carpet as well. I encourage that she stay on the drawing pad. The little dictator refuses. Markers are taken away and a new rage comes over her. Crying, followed by the usual rant of, “mine! Mine! MINE!”

Suddenly the little dictator realizes that markers are overrated and that she is hungry once again. I sarcastically point out that we have some great pancakes, but the little dictator is not amused. I think sarcasm is beyond her. The little dictator proceeds to the fridge where she awaits for me to open it and grant her whatever she wishes. Ice cream and mangos are at the top of her list. Ice cream is denied, which causes another rage, but quickly she realizes that mangos are just as good. The mangos have just touched the plate and I hear the little dictator calling out, “Sofia! Sofia!” This is the little dictator’s favorite TV show. She is quite obsessed with it. “Sofia! Sofia!” I finally cave and allow her to watch one episode. There is no sound from her for 22 minutes.

Bliss.

The show ends and the little dictator demands that another episode be played. “Sofia! Sofia!” I refuse and a hissy fit ensues. I ignore it and the little dictator proceeds to go play in her room. She calls for me at full force. I go in to see what the little dictator needs and she runs at me full speed and says, “Daddy! Daddy!” She reaches for me and greets me with, “Hi Daddy.” I smile and pick the little dictator up, “hi baby.” I stare into the beautiful bluesih, gray eyes that are before me and smile.

This is my little dictator. My baby girl.

March 12, 2015
The Demands of Love

My wife and I had made plans to drop our daughter off at grandmas so that we could have an entire Saturday of Valentines Day festivities. It had been a while since our work schedule’s had synced. We were super excited to go hiking in the mountains, have dinner not involving sippy-cups and bibs, and going to watch a movie. I cant tell you when was the last time I saw a movie on the big screen.

The Valentine’s Day get away was brought to a screeching halt a few days prior due to our daughters vomiting. Claire was not feeling well Thursday evening but it wasn’t until she puked that we realize it was more serious. Friday she had puked again, only in the morning but we knew we wouldn’t be able to drop her off at grandmas if she had some kind of stomach bug. All hopes of a potential romantic get away ended Saturday morning when Claire clearly hadn’t gotten better.

We spent most of Valentines Day comforting our little girl. Claire, who is usually running around as if she had drunk a six-pack of red bull was very calm and subdue. We actually had her cuddling on the couch with us, which is hard to do because she is so active. We spent time comforting her as we watched a few episodes of her favorite cartoon, Sofia the First. My wife did some homework since we weren’t going anywhere and I spent most of my time taking care of the little one.

Dinner was one of our typical recipes that we rotate through every few weeks. We had some wine and dessert from an earlier grocery store trip. We rented a Red box movie that my wife had wanted to see for the last year. It wasn’t the Valentines Day we had hoped for but in the end it worked out.

As parents we find our plans interrupted constantly by our children. It can be frustrating, especially when you’ve been planning something for a few weeks. Yet, the demands of love require that we be capable and willing to be interrupted. As disappointing as it was to not be able to do any of the things we had planned, there was something deeply beautiful in spending time serving our sick daughter. By no means was it as glamorous as a romantic outing for the day, but it was what love demanded and what love demands is always worth while. I know I write about this concept often, but a willingness to surrender to ones desires is so necessary; especially in being a parent, especially as a man. At the end of the day Valentines Day is about spending time with those you love most. It is amazing how sickness can reveal our love for our family. The cleaning up of vomit, having your child in your arms for the entire day, or the simple pat on the back for comfort are gestures of love that say more than weeks of planning an outing, cooking the perfect dinner and buying a gift.

To love is to serve. To serve is to love. This is what love demands of us.

February 16, 2015