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By John Jansen on March 3rd, 2010 | Category: Family Life, ParentingRecently, our seven-year old daughter Teresa — our firstborn child — learned to knit.
In itself, this is really no big deal, I suppose, given that it’s hardly unheard of for a child to know how to knit. But for me, as her dad, the thing that struck me about her newfound ability is that this is the first time I can recall that one of our children has acquired a skill that I don’t have.
From the time our kids are very young, we teach them to crawl, walk, talk, tie their shoes, read, etc., but these are all things that we ourselves know how to do. And still, to be sure, when our children have developed (or will develop) any of these basic skills, as their dad it has brought me great joy to behold each of these milestones, and will continue to do so.
But now that our children are beginning to learn skills that I myself don’t have, it has brought me even greater joy, and it has reminded me of the importance of our job as parents to instill in them a desire to discover and nurture their own God-given talents.
[Cross-posted at Lunch Break]
These are Disney shows but they’re nothing in moral content like those from the Wonderful World of Disney decades ago. So, I’m cutting out cable TV. And I’ll give a good-night talk in the way St. John Bosco did to his homeless youth. The good-night talk is done after night prayers and contains a moral lesson from something that happened during the day. That is how St. John Bosco made faith part of life. And psychologically, it is a most effective time to instill good thoughts. The talk is followed by the great silence – in the monastic tradition where no one talks unless it is an emergency. That silence ushers in sleep but also combats dissipation and distractions. The serenity and stillness brings recollection and a sense of God’s awesome and mysterious presence.
By Nod on February 7th, 2010 | Category: Family Life, ParentingWhile Mrs. Nod and I worked on shoveling out 30 inches of snow from the driveway, I sent Wynken and Blynken out back to clear away the heat pump. After warning them to be careful of the nearby outside basement steps, I returned to my grueling task.
Not five minutes go by when Wynken comes rushing up and says “Blynken fell down the basement steps and now she’s stuck!”. I rushed to the back and sure enough, she fell down the well of the stairs into the drift, arms and legs akimbo. Not only that, she lost her boot in the process.
She handled it well and didn’t panic; thankfully she didn’t get hurt – just stuck. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her back into the garage and set her down safe and sound.
She says, “Thanks, Daddy.”
I said, “Don’t you know, I’ll always come for you?”
‘Cause, you know, that’s what Daddies do.
By Will on January 31st, 2010 | Category: ParentingI’m not. At least, I started out compliant and credulous and utterly malleable, and developed stubborness (as much as I could manage) in an environment of abuse.
Marisa never learned to be stubborn, and may God grant she never has to.
Liam more than makes up for it. We want him to learn to feed himself. (He’s got a deadline of March, or whenever #2 gets here. I do not want to be dealing with a newborn and having to put each bite into Liam’s mouth.) But his response has been, when we put a spoon in his hand, to push his arm out wide, lock his elbow, turn his face the other way, and scream!
For finger food, he has the same reaction. Pull the hand back, reject the food, object to the whole process.
So Saturday, we took a tip from Miss Donna (the helper who at one meal wouldn’t put his cup into his mouth till he touched it — and now he always reaches for it), and decided to make him eat some of his meal with both finger food in his fingers, and him holding his spoon. I prepared for a weekend battle.
I got one.
…except that(on the spoon issue) it only lasted one day. Now, you put that spoon in his hand and he pulls it into his mouth, and says, do it faster! faster! faster! As you might expect, it’s a horrific mess: rice all over the table and floor at lunch; plate thrown on the floor at dinner… well, the speech therapist said he needs to learn to play with his food! We knew it was coming.
But what I wasn’t prepared for was it working so quickly! Now we have to get him to use the spoon to pick up the food. He doesn’t
By DavidofOz on January 31st, 2010 | Category: Family Life, Parenting
Big Brothers are Great
We had a guest the other night joining us for dinner. After the meal when the children were cleaning up and washing dishes, our guest asked, “Don’t your children fight?”
Lana and I looked at each other and pondered.
“Not really,” we replied, “They have occasional disagreements but these get sorted out pretty quickly.”
“Don’t they yell or scream at each other?” our guest asked in amazement.
“Rarely, but we stomped on that behaviour very early on and now they have learned appropriate conflict resolution skills. Also, when the children fight over something – a toy, a game or anything – we will get the object in dispute and tell them ‘If this is causing you to fight, we don’t want this thing in our home’ and then throw it in the bin. Pretty quickly the children learned that it wasn’t worth fighting over ’stuff’”
“Hmm,” he said, sitting back and watching the children singing off key – but loudly – and obviously enjoying themselves while they were cleaning up.
That is one advantage of homeschooling. Rather than being thrown into the school jungle with no direct adult supervision, they are able to learn from adults when the problems occur, as memories are fresh and actions are obvious and not distorted by time and emotion. Of course, the pressure is on Lana and I to grow up too, which was probably the hardest part. We can’t expect them to follow appropriate problem resolution techniques if we are squabbling over stupid little things.
“Ahh, but what about when they get in the ‘real’ world? How about then huh?”
We actually believe
By Nod on January 20th, 2010 | Category: Faith & Spirituality, ParentingEvery parent has ups and downs with their kids.
It’s called life — it happens; God made us because he thought we’d like it. And in general, we do. Still every parent wonders sometimes how they’re doing raising their kids. This month Wynken turns 11 years old. Eleven! Where does the time go?
So it’s probably illustrative of how we’re doing to see what the boy wants for his birthday.
- First, Star Wars stuff or Legos – okay, pretty typical for his age.
- Next, a memory card for his new DSi – again, typical.
- His own adult Bible (not a kid’s version).
Wait.
Did he say his own Bible? Okaaay.
That’s an encouraging sign that he would actually ask for his own. Granted, the boy will literally read anything you put in front of him — newspapers, encyclopedias, dictionaries — but those are targets of opportunity, boredom, curiosity, whatever. He asked for his own Bible. I guess they do listen, they just pretend like they don’t hear you.
So here it is: the Revised Standard Version, Second Catholic Edition by Ignatius. Bonded leather with the symbols of the four Evangelists and an icon of Christ embossed on the cover.
The RSV Second Catholic Edition made some changes and added footnotes according to Liturgiam Authenticam, and features new typesetting and maps. The main difference between the RSV-CE and the Second Catholic Edition is the updating of some of the more archaic language. [source]
Apparently this is the translation that we will be using in the near future at Mass; he may as well get used to it.
For fun, I picked
By Will on January 15th, 2010 | Category: Masculinity, Parenting
My brother-in-law says you can tell which fathers are involved in their infants’ lives by referring to a “5-wipe diaper,” and seeing who says, “What’s that?”
I recently read a blog post on Catholic Dads that showed advice (IMHO) to the uninvolved set. In particular, let your wife make all the decisions about child care, as it’s her show; babies need nurturing, not discipline, so your expertise won’t be needed until he’s old enough to throw a tantrum and have you “play the heavy.”
With all respect to the author, who is trying to comfort a female friend whose husband is perhaps essentially absent from both baby and mother: what a sad, sad view, I thought — that my primary relationship to my son should be as a disciplinarian! that I’m a fifth wheel until it’s time to make him toe the line! What a starved, barren view of how fathers can relate to children. Supporting Mom is great — better than not supporting her! — but I think we should challenge the absent husband and father further.
I recall a time when I asked my own father, “Why weren’t you more involved with me, when I was young?” His reply was, “Well, you seemed wise enough, I didn’t think you needed me to tell you what to do.”
I take it from this that this was the old way of fathering: the primary, and almost only, thing a father can do, is to give orders.
It would make me kind of useless to someone too young to understand orders. (I’m also possibly too laissez-faire. We have a helper who was telling him, no, you can’t have milk unless you’re willing to touch the sippy-cup.
 Gentlemen, please take a moment and vote for the Hadley family’s research efforts. The film “Extraordinary Measures” is promoting a contest and will donate $10,000 to fund research for the winner of the contest. You can vote here. (Just click on the link and click “Continue.”)
The family’s inspirational video is here: Hadley Hope
By The Dutchman on January 11th, 2010 | Category: ParentingMy friend Moira has a new baby and she is feeling rather overwhelmed. Her little boy is fussy, aggressive, restless, and she feels unable to cope. Moira’s even said that “perhaps this motherhood thing isn’t for me.” Naturally, I’ve done my best to reassure her. In point of fact, she’s a fine mother who couldn’t be more loving or attentive to her child. A lot of the problem is that her first child is a boy, and they are routinely more restless than girls. (It is my fondest wish for new mothers to have the girl first, so as to get used to babies in general, and then have the boy and get used to trouble.) But much of the problem is that she feels isolated and alone. Her mom had lousy maternal instincts, most of her friends are still single and none of the others have had any kids yet, and the advice she reads on-line is both dogmatic and contradictory, so she hasn’t much of a support system. Of course, she feels she can count on me, but I’m a Dad and much of what she’s going through are distinctly motherly self-doubts. Perhaps the best thing is that she’s begun making friends with some of the other moms in our parish, and so I see this as a low spot she is going through, rather than a real crisis. (Of course, an extra prayer or two from a Catholic Dad wouldn’t hurt things one bit.)
Now, Moira and I are very close friends but, while he’s a fine fellow and I count him as a friend, her husband and I are not close enough for me to presume to offer him any unsolicited advice. Were
Any Catholic dads out there who have read the 39 Clues book series? Any one able to give a short review from a Catholic point of view? My 10-year-old was told about the series and wants to join.
http://www.the39clues.com/info/about
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_39_Clues
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