Children are fascinating little experiments...

They are fun to watch when you can pull yourself out of the situation.

In the last week...

Child #1, Mr. J, took a shower wrote on the fogged bathroom mirror, "I am God's servant."  I discovered it the next day when I took my shower.  I much prefer hidden pleasant surprises over the unpleasant ones.  He shared his excitement at being a reader earlier in the day at his school Mass.

On Sunday morning, while the K/C's were leading the rosary, he asked if he could lead one of the mysteries.

Child #2, Mr. A, said people kept telling him he'd make a good priest and asked if he should become one at dinner.  Mr. A is our most difficult child.  He challenges us in many ways, sometimes good, sometimes not, hopefully all for our and his good.  My wife and I have commented privately that if we were to have a a priest, it would be him.  So, when the question came up, my heart skipped a beat and I left speechless for a moment. We talked about vocations and the importance of asking what God wanted him to do and to keep asking and exploring, because following God's will for him would bring him the most joy.  We finished the conversation with him saying, well I think I want to be a teacher first and a priest second. 

Child #3, Mr. L, with the help of his friend had a fall followed by a very abrupt stop when his face hit the slide.  The only time I recall seeing a mouth that swollen is when someone I knew had her teeth knocked out by a hockey puck.  His teeth aren't loose and he's enjoying the comfort provide by his parents.  Someday, he will be heavy enough to sit in a booster seat instead of the full car seat.

Child #4, Mr. M, apparently doesn't like his toddler bed anymore.  Last night, he went to sleep on the floor right next to his bed. Nap time and bedtime are filled by raiding Mr. A's toys and trinkets and the random destruction of others people's stuffed animals.  Little people are so cute when they are 2.  I think he will keep us on our toes throughout his youth.

What do you do about a child who refuses to eat?

Number 3, otherwise known as Mr. L, can eat and thoroughly enjoys eating when the food looks good to him.  When the food doesn't look or smell good to him, it is impossible to entice him into taking even a "No Thank You" bite.  Being that he is 4, with all of the pain and joy that comes with being 4, he doesn't quite connect "My stomach hurts" with "I didn't eat anything."

There is a positive side to this.  One of the aphorisms I occasionally hear is, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."   This seems to apply to younger men, also.  This morning he came downstairs while I was finishing my breakfast and gave me a hug and continued to hug me through a morning prayer.   He had a wonderful smile on his face and was so cuddly.  When I was finished saying my prayer, he looked up at me with his wonderful brown eyes and said, "Dad, I'm hungry."

Mothers

Thirty-eight years ago, my mother was a senior in High School.  She was not yet married.  She was not eighteen.  She was pregnant with me.  I was an accident, an oops, an unplanned consequence.  Yet, I was not a choice, I was a baby, I was her baby.  She wanted me, in spite of her mother's opposition. My mother was called to motherhood.  She wanted many  children.  Initially she wanted 12, then settled for 6, circumstances of life gave her 3.

I was born two months after my parents married, just over 30 weeks after I was conceived.  My delivery and post-natal care cost more than my father made in a year.  We didn't have insurance.

She never had the luxury to be able to stay home with her children.  While my parents were married, my mother worked nights in a factory and my father worked days in a department store to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.  After my parents were divorced, it harder for them.

Both of my parents were on public assistance during my childhood at various times as the economy went up and down, when work wasn't available, or when full time work did not keep food on the table.  We lived in bad neighborhoods, we had old cars, we had clothing from thrift stores.

I always knew I was wanted, even when I did not like my mother and when my mother did not like me.  Even when we were both in too much of a hurry for me to grow up. She brought me into this world.  She supported me.  She encouraged me.

Thanks Mom.

My Children gave this plant to my wife 2 years ago for Mother's Day.

To be a Father

Nine years ago, my first son came into this world.  Nine years ago, I became a father.

It's a fascinating experience to watch a child grow.  A baby is so small.  His finger and toes were so delicate.  I am not a large man, but my hands seemed so impossibly large next him.

Every milestone is a wonder, learning to roll, learning to walk and talk.

It is a joy to watch him, even when it hurts, to see how he responds, to listen to him speak and ask questions, experiencing the world around him.

When he was two, he had a fascination with his baby brother's eyes.  I'd hear a blood curdling scream and watch a two-year-old run out of their bedroom exclaiming, "He's OK now."

Three years ago, I took my family to my Great-Grandfather's funeral.  My oldest son asked me, "Why are Grandpa's eyes sewn shut?"

These may not paint the best picture of my son, but they remind me that what a child see and does is not always the same as I see and do.

Being a father he been an overwhelming, wonderful, horrible, joyful, painful, life-changing experience.   I wouldn't give it up for anything.   I have a focus and a purpose.  Even when all is going wrong, the hug of a child can make it right.

Fatherhood has been one has been one of those gifts that continually reminds me that there is a God and that He loves me.

Elected?

Yesterday, I served as a Chief Election Inspector at my local polling place.  Election Inspector is a fancy title for a poll worker.  I feel our political system requires service to work well.  We need service minded people to run for office.  I have no interest on working on a campaign, nor do I have a near term interest in running for elected office. We also need people to help run the elections.   I have the privilege of serving in this way 2 - 4 times a year (6 times this year because of recall elections).  If you have a schedule that allows for it, I'd encourage you to serve in this way, also.

Yesterday's election also means I won't be receiving robo-calls from campaigns and issue groups for a while.

On anticipation...

Two days of the week I drive myself into work, instead of riding a van.  The last few weeks it has been colder so I've walked through other buildings on the way to my office.   One of the buildings I can walk through has a Mesozoic Garden in it.  It is an amazing contrast.  Inside, it is warm, moist, and full of plant life.  Large ficus trees provide a shade canopy to computer kiosks.  Outside, it is cold and dry.  Most plants have died or gone dormant for winter.

I enjoy winter.  I don't enjoy the cold nor do I participate in any winter activities other than snow shoveling and occasional sledding excursion with my children.  I enjoy winter because after winter comes spring.  With spring comes rebirth.  The plants come out of dormancy and life returns to the world.

May we wait and watch for the Lord as we celebrate his coming into the world and bringing us to new life.

Death comes for us all.

Around a year ago, a friend and colleague lost his voice.  This loss was permanent.  Tumors were found on his vocal chords.  Radiation was used to shrink the tumors.  Surgery removed his larynx and the tumors.  He had some respite last summer, as he adapted to his new voice, a buzzer.  Late summer, the swelling and pain increased.  The cancer was growing actively.  He attempted chemotherapy, but it did not help.  He was going to retire from work on Dec 31, he moved the date to November 30.  Last Sunday evening, he was silenced in this life.

I pray the Father will lift him up beyond the pain and bring him into true life.