Discovering Fatherhood

Category: Uncategorized

  • Shame

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    A few days ago Claire was having some digestive issues. I don’t know if it’s the mangos or what but it was interesting. Claire is also getting use to the whole potty training thing, which started of well, but now we have now regressed. So we are hanging out playing with her toys and suddenly I notice that Claire is doing this weird dance. I ask her if she needs to go to the potty and she says “no”, which means she really does have to go. I put her on the potty and she sat for a minute and kept trying to get up. Finally, I had enough and picked her up from the potty. I guess that the upward motion of picking her up followed by gravity pressing her butt back down onto my arm caused bombs to drop on the floor. It kind of startled me at first and when I looked at my arm and saw a giant lump of poop I was brought back to reality.

    My wife took Claire, changed her and I cleaned up. A few minutes later we had restored order. My wife went to work and Claire and I continued playing. After 10 minutes or so I got a big whiff of Claire’s work…again. I picked Claire up and changed her and we continued playing. Another 10 minutes went by and Claire moved away from me and hid. I was confused. “Baby what are you doing?” Claire continued to move away from me, her face showing what I first thought was concern, mixed with fear. I had never seen her do this before. Was she scared? Did she see or hear something that caused fear? Finally, my nose told me what was wrong. Claire had pooped again. I approached her and she coward with that same weird look on her face. Finally I recognized what was happening. I had seen this look before in others, but I did not expect to find it on my baby girl.

    Shame. My daughter felt shame…

    I slowly walked up to Claire and she began to cry and yell, “no, no!” She continued to run away from me. I bent down and took Claire’s hand, “It’s okay baby. Lets go change your diaper.” Claire wasn’t sure what to do. She resisted some more and continued to have that shameful look. I picked her up and changed her diaper. I wiped away all the filth and told her how much I loved her. Claire’s shameful look disappeared with each wipe that took away her stains.I put Claire down and she went back to playing. I watched my little girl run, shout and laugh. I smiled and had one of those moments where you just take it all in and thank God that life is so good.

    Its difficult to put into words how painful it was to see my innocent daughter experience shame. I don’t know how Claire could ever think that she needs to hide from me, even if she pooped 3 times in a row. I guess we all experience shame at some point, I just didn’t think it would begin this early on in my daughters life.

    Shame is never helpful to a person. Guilt is the recognition that we’ve done something wrong and our conscience responds appropriately (at least it should). Guilt helps us to make the change or seek forgiveness for the wrong we have done. Shame however, is different. Shame tells us that the wrong we have done is bad and that we are bad as well. Shame diminishes us as a person. Shame tries to rob us of our dignity. Shame makes us run away and hide. We do this with God all the time. We fall and think that somehow what we have done is too bad. Unforgivable. Yet God the Father comes searching for us—as if we could actually ever hide from Him.

    As a father I recognize that I must do whatever it takes to help my daughter process her emotions in a healthy way. When she is guilty of doing wrong she needs to properly recognize this and respond accordingly. There is no room for shame in anyone’s mind and heart because all it does is distort and lead us away from those who love us, especially God. My hope is that in any occurrence where shame tries to creep its head in my daughter’s heart and mind I will be able to help her recognize it so that instead of hiding she runs to her Fathers arms for healing, forgiveness and peace.

  • Babies, Guns and Jesus

     

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    I am having a bit of a dilemma with the subject of this post and I am writing about it because this site is about “everyday daddy stuff” and this constitutes that. Also, because I believe there are plenty of other men who have gone through this situation and I could benefit immensely from their suggestions, comments and wisdom.

    The moment I was married my mind began to think differently about various subjects (it’s supposed to). Life insurance was one of those things. If I die I want my wife to be taken care of. I also realized that my bachelor pad habits were not great and needed to change, furniture included.

    When Claire was born there was another change in me. This change picked right up from where I left off after getting married. I had a wife and now, a daughter. My wife could take care of herself, but my daughter is utterly helpless. I had to think about things I have control over: baby gates, electrical socket plugs, and kitchen cabinet locks. Also in the mix were things that I may not be able to control: school districts, public or private school, neighborhoods, and the people in the said neighborhood.

    So Claire and I were at the playground a few days ago. My daughter was going down the slides and running through the various obstacles there. As Claire went down the slide I saw a car coming. In the car was a really huge Malamute (like a Husky, but bigger). Also in that car was a Great Dane. I immediately went on alert because those are huge dogs that I have no control over and I don’t know what they will think upon seeing my little girl. The dogs both got out of the car and proceeded to take their owners on a walk. The dogs were fine, but I had this thought on my mind. What if both, or just one of those dogs attacked my little girl? What could I do? I have a pocketknife, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t work out so well with dogs that big.

    So I am thinking differently about lots of things. Guns are one of those things.

    It would be one thing for me to get beat up and mugged, but it would be a whole other ball game if my wife or daughter were involved. So I am discerning whether or not I should get a concealed carry permit and carry a gun with me at all times.

    I want to protect my family, which I have a right and duty to. However, I am also a Catholic Christian man who wants to help others come to see the awesome power of Jesus and what He can accomplish in us. Never in my life have I wanted a gun on my property. When I was single, if someone were to break into my house I would probably invite him or her to chat about Jesus over pizza before they took off. I know that’s weird, but that’s how I use to think. I only had myself to think of then.

    But now I am married. I have a daughter. And I am a follower of Jesus who tells me to, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Even that neighbor who might be hostile, or so broken inside that he or she is unable to really reason properly. Those are all Jesus’ people. My people…

    Maybe I am being paranoid. Am I being paranoid?

    What are the odds of someone or something trying to attack my family? Are those odds better than one of my kids getting to my gun and shooting themselves or someone else accidentally?

    There are also the practicality factors to consider. If I carry a gun I have to be aware of it at all times. I have to know where I can go with and without one. If I cross from VA to MD, or SC with a concealed weapon is it all the same thing? Is it cool in one state and you get fined in the other? What about comfort? The gun will be on my person, which I can’t imagine is super comfortable. Will others who know, or can recognize the outline of my gun under my shirt feel comfortable with me carrying? Will I become a threat to someone else if they recognize I’m carrying a gun?

    This is what I am thinking about right now: babies, guns and Jesus.

    So what is the answer here? I don’t want to become a crazy gun owner that is uber paranoid and thinks everyone is a threat to his or her family. Yet, I never want to be in a situation like the one I mentioned above and not be able to defend my family.

    I realize very clearly that things happen and we are not able to control them. I really do get that. I also really trust that God has my family’s best interest in mind, but not all of His children necessarily see it that way. Some people make mistakes and chose to hurt others. Does the act of me carrying a gun deter someone from choosing to harm my family and I? If not, should I respond to that violence with more violence? I am called to protect and defend my family but are guns the answer?

    This is what I am thinking about right now: babies, guns and Jesus.

  • Beauty Saves

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    My daughter is beautiful, stunningly beautiful.

    The above picture I believe captures her natural beauty, personality, character, innocence and playfulness. I realize that my interpretation of her beauty is subjective. You may think that my daughter is cute, but find that your child is actually the most gorgeous in the world. And so it goes with every parent on the planet. It is easy to be blown away by our children’s beauty. To be captivated by beauty of any kind is necessary to all of humanity. This is why we need great paintings, music and films. We need beauty to captivate us, inspire us, and move us from complacency to action, to transformation. As one of my favorite authors, Fyodor Dostoevsky once said, “Beauty will save the world.”

    It does. It has. And it will continue to do so.

    I had never really thought about beauty as a saving power. Since the birth of my daughter this has changed. I am surrounded by many beautiful things my wife being one of thee most beautiful. Even though beauty surrounds me often I tend to ignore it, or not allow it to drive me towards transformation.

    I used to drive across the Woodrow Wilson Bridge in the state of Maryland all the time. The view from that bridge is pretty spectacular. On one side you have a great shot of Washington DC that is postcard worthy. On the other side sits the National Harbor, which has become a visual masterpiece, particularly at night with its lights. Most of the time my focus was on the traffic that builds up on the bridge. Not postcard worthy. Getting to work on time and wishing I could live closer to work were the usual domination thoughts and focus as I slowly crossed this bridge. Beauty literally flanked me and these were my thoughts.

    We do this often.

    We put on the blinders and push through because we have deadlines, places to be, and people to meet. Yet, beauty continues to call on us; to draw us in so that we can seize to be complacent; to move us into action; to transform us. Beauty asks us to slow down. To see. To listen. To gaze. Life is too good and too beautiful to be lived at 90 mph. If we want to enjoy it we have to take it in, slowly. Driving past the Mona Lisa is very different than standing in front of it for a while.

    This is why a relationship with God (the originator of all that is beautiful) necessarily requires that we slow down, listen and spend time in His presence—what I would call gazing. Beauty draws us into an intimate place where we are able to see, listen and gaze, but it also draws out the gifts we have been given. Beauty stirs within us and in that stirring those gifts surface. We recognize these gifts and are challenged to use them. Action. Transformation. My daughter has helped me in this tremendously. All it takes is a moment in front of her and beauty moves me.

    A new year lies ahead of us. We can chose to put the blinders on and go through it as if it were a race to be run. Or, we can allow ourselves to be stirred by the beauty that surrounds us, because “Beauty will save the world”. It does. It has. And it will continue to do so.

  • Saying ‘No’

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    A few months ago I experienced a pretty emotional moment in parenting. I had heard from parents that this moment was coming and that it is pretty tough. Here’s how it went down. Claire had discovered this magical liquid that when blown from a special wand creates circular spheres of joy that must be chased. Claire was in her “bubble phase”. Playing bubbles had become her new favorite activity and all she wanted was bubbles…all the time.

    On this particular day we gave Claire plenty of bubble time since it was an easy thing to do and she loves it so much. As we were getting ready for bath time Claire began to ask to play bubbles again. Repeatedly I said, “no”. Finally, after a few seconds of Claire continuously asking to play bubbles I once again said, “no” a little firmer and proceeded to pick her up. And that’s when it happened. I didn’t see it coming, but its effects where disarming and powerful.

    As I bent down to pick Claire up she turned her little head ever so slightly in an angle towards her chest, pouted her lips in sadness and directed her eyes up towards me. It was the saddest face in the history of humanity. EVER! I literally felt my heartbreak and I choked up. My eyes got a little teary. “What is happening?!” I thought to myself. I picked Claire up and proceeded to get her to the bathtub. After I finished bathing Claire, and I had put her down to bed I told my wife what happened. I had experienced the infamous “Pouty Face”. As I said before, I had heard of the power of the Pouty Face and how tough it was to see, but wow! It was some serious stuff.

    The Pouty Face is a powerful weapon in the arsenal of toddlers everywhere. Many of them use it well and get their parents to do whatever they want. I think the only reason I did not succumb to it was because I was in mid motion when it happened. I love my daughter and the pouty face she gave me was incredibly saddening and something I honestly don’t ever want to see again. I can see how easy it is for parents to break when their children give them the Pouty Face. I can see parents being so upset at this face that the kids will get whatever they want. I almost caved. I literally almost said, “The hell with bath time lets go play bubbles!”

    Kids need to hear ‘no’ often. Giving into their every desire is obviously not okay and absolutely detrimental to family and society in general. Even saying ‘no’ to something good like food, pleasurable activities, bubbles etc. is necessary. Instant gratification helps no one to grow in virtue. I could share a million stories of what a 2 year old will look like after 13 years of parents saying yes to all their “Pouty Face” moments. It isn’t attractive at all.

    Not. At. All.

    There obviously needs to be discernment involved when saying ‘no’ to things. I’m sure this will look different with every child. My daughter may need to hear ‘no’ more often, but my next kid may not need to hear it much at all. Either way, saying ‘no’ is so important and this dad is discovering that with the infamous Pouty Face ‘no’ is not as simple as ‘no’ sounds.

    I’m off to play bubbles…

  • Telling the Story

    I posted this last year on Christmas day and no one really read it, which is a great sign that everyone was offline and enjoying family. I am reposting it and hope you all enjoy it.

    Leo's avatarDiscovering Fatherhood

    IMG_0603I love telling stories. I’m going to be that old grandfather who tells stories over and over again, while the grandkids say, “Grandpa! You just told us that one!”

    There is something about a good story that really can work a person’s imagination, help process through difficulty, or just leave us with a smile on our face. Stories are powerful.

    I am very thankful for the “Little People” that Fisher Price puts out—especially the biblical ones. My father-in-law recently got my daughter Claire the Little People Nativity Set and she loves it. I can tell because they all are covered in baby slobber half the time. Baby Jesus is currently in a cocoon of solidified saliva.

    Fisher Price has done a good job of creating these cute, little people. The facial features, outfits, and color design—they all do a great job at setting the scene. Yet, the toys in and…

    View original post 631 more words

  • Prway

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    My daughter never seizes to amaze me.

    As a father I recognize that my duty is to help my daughter grow emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, socially and physically. I, as well as my wife, spend many of our hours in the day helping our daughter to grow and learn. Recently Claire learned how to pray. As Catholic Christians, all of our prayers begin with the sign of the cross. It is a simple, yet powerful gesture that sums up the faith and the power of the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Claire kind of sort of can do it. Usually she lifts her hand towards her forehead and then brings it down towards her chin in a circular motion. Wax on, wax off sort of thing. We’re working on it.

    Our prayer time with Claire is short. After Claire attempts the sign of the cross she places her palms together to pray. This she can do really well. Most of her prayer time is before meals and before going to bed. We keep it short and sweet because, well… she’s not even two yet. Claire has come to recognize that before every meal we must give thanks and pray. She has become sort of the prayer police at home.

    It isn’t unusual for my wife and I to find ourselves pulled a million different directions. Between my wife’s night shift work, lack of sleep, and part time Masters Degree studies and my Youth Ministry schedule that can be…unpredictable at best; we find our selves on the go all the time and exhausted. It is challenging to make prayer a priority every morning. We do it, but it is challenging.

    A few days ago I found myself rushing to get to a night meeting at church. I had cooked our meal and was all “go, go, go”. I put the plate of food on the table and immediately began to eat. I was interrupted by my daughter’s words: “prway!” It took a second to register. “Prway? Yes. I need to pray. Give thanks.” I put the fork down and my wife, daughter and I prayed together.

    It is so easy to get caught up in the business of life. It is so easy to rush to that important thing. What we do is important and necessary, or else we wouldn’t do it. Yet, we must slow down to give thanks. To “prway”, as a wise young child is teaching me.

    As we enter into these next few weeks of family interactions, feasts, laughter, hurrying and last minute shopping excursions let us not forget to give thanks. To pause and “prway”. For life is a gift that we have for a short time and praying is a necessary way of giving thanks to God for it. My daughter teaches me this every time a plate touches our table.

    “Daddy prway!”

  • To Jersey and Back

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    My cousin got married this past week in New Jersey so the family traveled to partake in the festivities. We have stayed with Claire in hotel rooms before but mostly when she was in her infant stage. Putting her down to sleep as an infant a few feet away from us wasn’t a big deal–she would pretty much sleep through anything and we could carry on. Now as a toddler it is a whole new ball game.

    At home we have walls to filter the noise but in the hotel room there was no place with walls to go to, except for the bathroom. As most kids do, Claire needs her nap. A few months ago Claire missed her naptime due to family visiting and it was pretty bad. She wouldn’t go to sleep that night, but not only that it threw her off her schedule for two weeks.

    FOR TWO WEEKS!!!

    Needless to say Jess and I understand the sacredness of naptime. We are not messing with it. So, in a hotel in Jersey we put Claire down in her playpen and we proceeded to eat our lunch in the only place with separate walls. The bathroom. I know, it’s gross but I much rather eat there than wake my daughter from her nap. TWO WEEKS PEOPLE!

    My wife and I had hard tacos and chips. When I went to order this meal I didn’t think of the amount of noise the said tacos and chips would make while eating. Amateurs. I know. But tacos sounded so good, especially when all you can eat in this part of Jersey is Italian. As much as we love Italian you can only have so many cannollis before you lose your cannollis.

    Anyways, so I sat on the toilet and my wife sat on the tub. We whispered and ate our food as quietly as possible. It was romantic in a weird sort of way. “I love the way your eyes shine off the porcelain my love.” We finished our quasi-romantic meal and headed ever so quietly to the main living area where Claire slumbered. Jess grabbed her laptop to study and I began to write this blog post on my iPad.

    I looked into seeing if hotels have rooms made for large families with separate sleeping quarters and some do, but they are ridiculously expensive. Our hotels website in NJ didn’t seem to have any.

    My wife and I were fine with needing to accommodate for nap time, but what do you do when you have more than one child and you cannot afford the presidential sweet your hotel offers with that extra room? I would love to hear what other families do when they travel with multiple kids and have to stay in a hotel.

  • The Skimpy Costume Dilemma

    I wrote this last year and I think it is worth sharing once again with Halloween around the corner. Enjoy.

    Leo's avatarDiscovering Fatherhood

    jackolanternA few days ago I was in a Wal-Mart with my daughter Claire and I saw that they already had Halloween costumes out. There were two high school girls looking at the different outfits and I happened to overhear their conversation. The one girl thought that the costume she was looking at was not “skimpy” enough. Yes, she actually used that word. The conversation ended with them deciding to go to one of those pop-up Halloween stores in town to get something that would be more “fitting” for their needs.

    Every year I see some of my Youth Ministry girls’ pictures on Facebook from Halloween parties and I dread the potential of seeing one of them in these “skimpy” costumes. I dread it because:

    1. It hurts my heart to see them dressing in a way that is going to objectify them and have guys thinking all kinds of inappropriate things…

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  • Her Words

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    Language is pretty amazing. The fact that we can create an alphabet that connects strings of letters into words; that when spoken create sounds; that create meaning; that convey thought and emotion is pretty astounding.

    My daughter has so much to say these days. The world is new and filled with exciting things and she wants to tell us all about it. I can’t help but laugh every time Claire goes off on a rant about the neighbor’s dog barking, or about the cat jumping off the couch. Claire is speaking in her own baby language and I cant help but wonder what is going through that little head of hers. It really is amazing to see how vocal she is.

    I don’t know about your kids but mine says things with certain pitches, tones and slurs. Each word comes out in this unique and ridiculously cute way. When she was 4 months old she made some noises that were awesome to hear. Claire couldn’t quite blow kisses; instead she did this clicking noise with her mouth. As Claire gets older her noises, voice and words change. My wife and I were amazed to hear that Claire’s voice had changed a few months ago. She woke up and sounded like someone else’s kid. It was sad in a sense, losing the old baby voice. Yet the new toddler voice is great. I’ve recorded some of Claire’s sounds and I’m really glad I did. I watch the videos every now and then and it reminds me of the change and growth.

    I know soon enough she will be speaking plainly but right now there is something so neat about her babble. We are enjoying it and at the same time excited for when it all makes sense. My friend Scott jokingly says that when kids are young we are excited for them to walk and talk, and then for the rest of their lives we’re telling them to sit down and shut up. I’m sure there is much truth in that.

    The miracle of the human person unfolds before me everyday through my daughter. Today I am noticing her words. Maybe tomorrow it will be the change in her fingers and toes, or facial features and hair. Everyday I am blown away by the awesomeness (in the literal sense of the word) that God has bestowed on human beings. Who knew that discovering fatherhood would have me discover more than what being a father means. Discovering the complexities of language, sounds and words—things we never really pay attention to reveals how mysterious and amazing the world I live in is.

    All this brought to my life through a 1-½ year old.

    * The above image is a word cloud made up of the many words found in this blog.

  • Why Prince Charming is a lie, but real men aren’t!

     

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    I am sharing this post from an article I recently read on the website: The Chastity Project. It is written by a young woman named Esther Rich. I think she touches on something very true that sometimes men (at least this man) we feel like we are not the “Prince Charming” that we are supposed to be. Esther’s word are worth sharing. Enjoy.

    LEO
    I LOVE the song ‘Lead Me’ by Sanctus Real, but I can’t listen to it without getting emotional. My friend and I cried to each other over the phone when we first heard it.

    Why?

    Because it hits a sore spot. It hits that wound in all of our hearts that bleeds the phrase “how come there are no real men anymore?!” Most of us have heard it asked. Nearly as many of us have asked it ourselves. But the reason we don’t see them isn’t that they don’t exist, it’s that we tell them they can’t.

    God created us for union and communion with each other. His unmatchable creativity is such that he designed us to fit together. Our lives are the most fruitful and we feel the most fulfilled when we’re exercising that complementarity. We need men in our lives—not just husbands, but fathers, brothers, friends—and they need us. We unlock an extra level of potential in each other.

    Sometimes as women we put far too much pressure on men to become the ideal we think we need. We’re often guilty of underestimating just how difficult a job they have! Supporting us and leading us takes an immense amount of strength. But that strength comes from God alone, and must be continually renewed through prayer and abandonment to Him.

    Disney has taught us to expect perfection and settle for nothing less. But Prince Charming is a lie. No wonder the divorce rate is rising so rapidly: we’re in for a serious shock if we marry with the false belief that the men who swept us off our feet and carried us to the altar in their strong arms will retain that guise of perfection for long.

    No man is flawless (neither are we!), and expecting them to solve all our problems will only end in more heartache. Christ called us to love one another as He loves us. That means that the most fruitful relationships will be built on grace and mercy rather than pressure and judgement. We’re called to love each other including our flaws, because without that merciful love no relationship can survive.

    Disney’s version of “Mr Right” may be far-fetched and idealistic, but deep down we do have a natural longing to be supported and guided by a strong man—spiritually, physically and emotionally… and that’s no coincidence! What we long for is actually the root of what men were intended to be, we just don’t realise it. We want them to be strong and gentle and decisive and loving all at the same time… and they can be! But to benefit from that, we have to allow them to develop those strengths. To have a “real man,” we have to allow him to be a real man.

    Culture insists on mourning the loss of ‘real men’, but perhaps it’s simply the definition used that needs challenging. A real man isn’t one who works out twice a day, earns a six figure salary and buys extravagant presents with money he won’t miss.

    A “real man” is one who will lead you with strong hands even when that means humbly admitting his mistakes.

    One who will discerningly make sacrifices for the greater good of your family.

    One who seeks guidance from his heavenly Father instead of relying on his own strength.

    One who’d rather walk you to Heaven than drive you around in his Porsche.

    One who looks at your heart before your physique.

    One who prays for you, not just pays for you.

    One who strives to protect your purity not conquer it.

    One who loves you as Christ loves His Church.

    … and these REAL MEN EXIST!

    ______________________________

    Esther Rich has a bachelor degree in Psychology from Oxford University, UK, and is currently completing the Sion Community Foundation Year, working on their youth ministry team. She loves Theology of the Body, Papa Francesco and a good worship band. She is passionate about empowering women to be who they were created to be, and blogs at “For Such A Time As This.”