What's Important

This last Monday, my youngest daughter, who is three made her way up to the stage with the other “Lambs” to receive her Dove pin, signifying her advancing to kindergarten.  Mildly sheepish, she stood there with her friends as they all tried to take in the applause, flash from cameras, music and then ushering off of the teachers like mama cats herding their young to meet once again their adoring parents, grandparents and friends.

It is now Thursday at 1:30 a.m. and the dryer is finished.  In the load of laundry is my other daughter's (who is the oldest and is six) blue checkered uniform skirt, maroon knee-high socks, white short-sleeve standard issue shirt, with school emblem and maroon sweater now washed and dried for “school dress day” later this morning for her participation in her advancing to the first grade celebration.  I’m up at this early hour because my oldest said yesterday after dinner, “Papa, I can’t wear my jumper anymore.  I’m a big girl now and I want to use my skirt (I’m not even sure that’s the special name for it, but it looks like a skirt to me)…My teacher said, we need to be extra clean tomorrow because we’re going to the first grade.”  Taking her little face in both hands, I told her how much I am proud of her, now that she is such a big girl and so smart she is ready for the first grade (Of course I held back the tears of pride and joy of her accomplishment).

But, am I ready for the first grade?  Am I ready to do kindergarten with my youngest? This last year with all of the personal stresses in the backdrop,there was “homework”, school activities, countless and beautiful handmade crafts, paintings, stories of friends on the playground, snacks, lunches to pack, preferences to learn, countless alphabet songs, “eye-spy” drives to school, challenges to read numbers on signs in the produce section at the market and then, the real tearjerker, my oldest getting too big to sit in the little car at the market with her little sister (Damn, I so loved the two of them sitting side by side pretending to race down the aisle, making driving and screeching sounds around corners as fast as I could push the cart without drawing too much attention)!

Each of my daughters exclaims in her own way that simple statement of an emerging identity and I am concurrently proud as can be and saddened that the stress of it all doesn’t last just a little longer.  I want small shoes to fit a little longer.  I want clothes to stay big so I have to cuff pants and roll up sleeves.  I want their struggle to find letters, sounding out words and putting numbers together to last just a little longer.  I find myself trying to embed every memory in my brain so these wonderful moments don’t slip away unnoticed  or unappreciated.

Upon reflection, I guess I’m ready to do kindergarten with my youngest and the first grade with my oldest (after a nice summer of rest).  All in all, I am reminded to keep doing what I am doing because what is important is creating what is necessary for my daughters to say with definite readiness, “I’m a big girl now.”

Snack Attack

New recipe for evening snack a hit for daughters:

1/4 cup each of Greek non-fat yogurt from Sprouts;

1/2 an apricot divided and diced (?) for two;

3 gorgeous, large, purple grapes (seeds removed) and diced for each;

Apply a nice sprinkling of Mad Hava Agave Nectar (a friend told me about to replace sugar and artificial sweetener);

Top with ground cinnamon.

It was such a hit, the girls asked for seconds!! Enjoy!

At the Spice Rack

Cooking continues to be a wonderful way for me the the children ("B", age 6 and "Co-co" age 3) to spend time together. However, I do have to admit, learning our way around the spice rack is a little more time consuming than anticipated.  However, after purchasing our first rice cooker, slow cooker and new blender (several months ago) and a Cuisinart 6 quart Stockpot (last week), it became apparent the sense of security, stability, fun, affection and thrill of tasting what came out of the oven in my grandmother's kitchen was now available in my own kitchen and for my children.

My grandmother, "Cita" (I guess that was short for Mama-cita?) who was born in Mexico, didn't have books or the Internet to consult with for a recipe, but I do think the family gatherings and neighbors were her references to identify a special ingredient to make, for example, tamales a little bit better.  I remember often the family getting together during the holidays for a special meal and my grandmother always having something for us each time we visited; and, if it wasn't already made, she needed just a few minutes in the kitchen and in what seemed like no time, we'd have fresh tortillas, muffins, a chicken dinner, tacos, or whatever.  While I don't have grandma's vast experience and knowledge of recipes and ingredients and how they are mixed together, what I do have, which I believe is the primary ingredient, is love for my daughters, which makes any non-fluffy, partially burnt rice or overly crispy chocolate chip cookies taste wonderful.


Several months ago, I ventured my first attempt at rice in the new rice cooker.  After that, I felt bold enough to try a chicken something or other in our first slow cooker.  "B" and "Co-co" both loved the way our home smelled on the way in from school, "Ummmmm, Papa, what smells sooooooo good?!"  I was hooked.  Week before last, Chloe and I ventured a cherry pie.  After that I tried for about the third time (best result so far) Quinoa.  Last week, we tried two new items at once, due to the girls being sick with the cold.  The menu included bread and chicken soup.  The feedback I am getting from the girls makes me feel pretty good about doing what I can to move away from the microwave and processed foods.

Today, I purchased two new books to help me out (in addition to all the wonderful support, education and tips I receive from friends):

• The $7 a Meal Slow Cooker Cookbook: 301 Inexpensive Meals the Whole Family Will Love

• Slow Cooker Recipes for 2, 4 or More with a bonus chapter: Cook Once, Eat Twice Family Meals

Thinking this was going to be a smart budget move, I didn't realize spices are so expensive, not to mention building a kitchen of supplies!  But a close friend reminded me, it is a lot cheaper than the ill effects of poor health over time associated with poor nutritional habits.  This week, we are going to try Banana Bread (by SimplyOrganicFoods.com), Bob's Red Mill Stone Ground Cornbread Mix (BobsRedMill.com) and Potato Corn Chowder (The $7 a Meal Slow Cooker, p. 287).

I have to use a measuring cup and measuring utensils for everything, while my grandmother used her hand as a "measuring cup". I have to read the recipe no less than five times to know what I'm doing and ask a lot of questions.  I am by no means a "chef" as defined in any dictionary, but to my girls, I am "Chef Papa" and together we are learning our way around the spice rack and loving it.

Silly

As a parent, you too can have fun while driving to and from school, to the market, doctor's office or to any destination you know is going to test the patience of everyone in the car, by playing a simple game called, That's Silly! Imagine that?!

I guarantee loads of fun if you take a few moments to use the natural gifts of creativity you and your children have to enjoy each other's imaginations and giggles to follow.

In this game all that is required is an active imagination to dress any animal in the funniest-er outfit you can possibly think of.  In the imagination of my three and six year old daughters (myself included), come to life cats, squirrels, puppies and dinosaurs with polka dot boots, necklaces, bracelets, heart-shaped glasses, purses with candy and the biggest, biggest, biggest pinkalicious hat you ever saw. After everyone playing has had a chance to describe their "silliest animal ever", then we vote for the silliest.  To date, I am still trying to catch up to the creative geniuses of my daughters, both of whom take either 1st or 2nd prize each and every time.

The giggles that follow each game are more enjoyable than the one before.  Aside from the fun, I am finding my daughters stay focused, as they each give the other a turn and enjoy immensely the colorful description that unfolds from the other.  Their animal outfits are becoming more elaborate and fancy and their ability to describe an internal perception is enhancing their vocabulary as they explore using new words that are appropriate and made-up to add to the fun.  They "strategize" to use different words that are more elaborate than the other, and thereby create a healthy sense of friendly and fun competition.  Their creativity leads to their recalling the best of the best days after the game is over, which seems to cement their "sisterhood" in the sharing of thoughts and laughter.  These moments of creativity are both silly and enjoyable as I get to experience with my daughters what our minds create together.  Imagine that?!

Motherhood

It is impossible to escape acknowledging the vessel from which our form is gathered, that vessel we call mother.

Male and female alike a vessel is from which we came; we are homeless and we are leaders, still a vessel is from which we came.  They exist all around us, these life giving forms of all languages, colors, sizes, shapes; they are unique.  How compelling and intriguing.  They dance, serve, work, celebrate, smoke, create, seduce, exhaust, refresh, comfort, sacrifice, hate, protect, love, exact retribution, nurture, hear, listen, ignore, unite, shame, intuit, pray, condemn, heal , destroy, feed, wash, cloth, strip, hit, hug and sigh and find ways of being that I cannot possibly know fully…To say they “live” still falls short of all they are and do.  And everyone of them is loved; not one of them is forsaken.

They are mother, past, present and future. Because of mother, we are a gift of existence.  From them, that vessel our pulse was put into place preceded by untold types of unions bound in sweat and muscle; unions between man and women sometimes welcome sometime not.  These unions are accompanied by an expanse of emotions that may have included fear, love, hate, confusion, and on, and on, and on.  They are mother.   They are the topic infinite discussions, tears and joys, which cause us to share or hide from friends, family, traveling companions our experiences with the vessel we call mother.   She has been, is and will always be a vessel from which we find at least in part our identity… Whether we like it or not, she is mother.  Praise her or profane her, she is mother.  For some she is a vessel firm, steadfast and reliable, and for others fragile, disloyal and deceptive, and for generations past and future some variation and culmination of the very best and very worst of the entire human race.  Still the vessel, a gift of existence.

How envious I am at times to know you, who has the power to bear life in a way I can only allow my imagination the vague opportunity to grasp.  If I am honest, I know that for whatever reason, you were chosen to have the ability to give life, because you still, with all the challenges you face, would do it so much better than men, myself included, who with all our “power” are recklessly driven many times over to destroy life or put you in a place to compromise your own.  Oh, to imagine if we could match in our lives and politics whatever drives you to give life.

You are mother… an invaluable vessel of infinite variation.  On this one day, we, I acknowledge you, dead, alive or to be, a gift of existence.

Papa, yoooou in timeout!

Listening to my children is very important, especially when it is time for me to go to timeout.  I’m not sure when it was within the last several months, but my youngest didn’t break eye contact when she looked up at me and said, “Papa, yooooou in timeout!”  “Me?” I thought and asked, “What did I do?” with a grin followed by some hugs with, “Oh, you are angry with Papa, aren’t you?”  She confirmed, “Yes – Yooooou in timeout!  I’m angry.”

I love the fact that my two daughters, especially the youngest, can express themselves (It isn’t in the genes and takes a lot of reinforcement to get here).  When she sent me to time out, rather than get stuck in a battle, I changed course and we took some time out together to chat.  It took about thirty seconds for my little one to say she didn’t like sitting alone.  Thus, a new plan was needed.  From that little chat, I adopted and modified the successful system, Positive Parenting with a Plan (www.Family-Rules.com), taught by Matthew A. Johnson (I came to know of this system through a seminar I attended).

While the system is designed for an age group beyond the ages of own children (ages three and six), creative modification resulted in great success.  For example, instead of “reward cards” (cited in the book, Positive Parenting with a Plan (Grades K-12): F.A.M.I.L.Y. Rules), I use "tokens" purchased from the local education store (e.g., www.aplusteaching.com).  And, each child has her own Tupperware (approximately 3.5" x 3.5"), which each decorated to include smiley faces and flowers, etc. There is a third Tupperware with a sad face on it (which I took the liberty to draw myself).  From there, I use a modified counting method of another author, Dr. Thomas Phelan of www.parentmagic.com: Yellow-1, Yellow-2 and Yellow-3 as warnings.  The levy of a “fine” can happen on either Yellow-1, Yellow-2 or Yellow-3, thus capitalizing on the children not being able to predict the outcome, i.e., Will a fine happen on Yellow-1 or Yellow-3…. Do you feel lucky (insert your best impression of Clint Eastwood here without the ‘Punk’ part)? I use this “Yellow-1” method so my children are NOT traumatized through life whenever they hear anyone counting, or playing a game, as in Hide-and-Seek, or when they are adult business owners and counting the day’s receipts, 1 – 2 – 3 – etc.  I wanted the counting to be so unique, they would likely not hear it again anywhere else and thus be free to enjoy numbers in any other situation.

The children earn tokens for things they do on their own, getting dressed fully (one token for socks, shoes, etc.). So, my three year old will likely cash in on 4-5 tokens before school.  Also, she earns one token and much praise for going to the potty on her own spontaneously.  More often times than not, I hear, “Papa, guess what? I went to the potty without telling you!”  I always give praise, and sometimes a token, unless that is our specific agreement.  For every 10 tokens, they earn a trip with Papa to yogurt, ice cream or the store to purchase of a coloring book, etc.  For infractions, one or more tokens is (are) required to go back into the sad face Tupperware.  When the infractions get personal, i.e. an attack from the upper bunk bed to the victim down below, then "I'm sorry" with handing one or more tokens over to the victim, which cures a lot of tears and results in big smiles (Of course, we insert, “Do you forgive me?” and “Yes, I do” followed by encouragement toward hugs depending on the severity of the transgression).

Who would of thought that listening to my three year old would result in constructing a plan to “shape” (I prefer this term over “discipline”) their behavior in positive ways?  The children find great pleasure in counting how many tokens they each have, and by happenstance there is one gold token that made its way into the mix, which is very much sought after).  After implementation of this plan, there has been about 1 to 3 timeouts (due to my learning curve).

That’s my story and I’m stick’n to it.  Now, if you will excuse me, I have some tokens handout.


MUTT6UCKD64U

Pinkalicious vs Protective Papa

It’s pretty humbling to have my three year old set me straight on what is important to her in the way of attire. Apparently little “Pinkalicious” dresses are much more important to three and six year old girls than “protective papa” thinking denim pants to protect little legs and little knees are what is important from the bumps and scrapes inherited on the playground.

Okay, yes, I want my daughters to be active, assertive and able to leap tall buildings with a single bound. Evidence of that is our play time, and each of my daughters trying to tackle me. I tell you, I’m not sure there is anything more fun to watch than my daughters run out a good five yards, turn around, and with determination of miniature 300 pound football players showing in their faces run toward me full speed to do a half-tackle semi-jump kick to the stomach. They get a real “kick” out of it (or, I should say, I get the kick out of it), resulting in both of us laughing for quite a while with every one of their attempts. To date, they have worn me out every time! I have to say, “Okay, that’s enough…” which is good for about two more attempts at tackling me. They have yet to give up!! I should do an experiment to see if I can out last them, but I’m afraid of the medical consequences of being struck so often by little projectiles with fast feet.

These kinds of play lead me to think my daughters needed protection, and denim pants were just the thing. But after my three year old looked me straight in the eye one morning while I was helping her get dressed, she said, “Papa, I DON’T like pants. I like dresses.” There was something in that self-determined voice I could hear out of my love for her that said I better listen, as I was setting, in part, the foundation for our communication, i.e., her ability to speak her mind, and her perception about being heard and respected after voicing her preferences (Now, I do know what issues matter, and this one is more important to her than me).

Given our little chat, the other day I took my three year old to Ross thinking I’d zip-in and zip-out after buying a couple dresses, to offset the denim pants hanging in her closet. “Okay,” I thought to myself, “This is about a 30 minute activity.” Boy was I wrong. I held up little dresses in front of my daughter one at a time, while she stood in front of the mirror and waited for me to ask the age old questions that great philosophers have not found the perfect way to determine the answer to, “What about this dress? Do you like it?” My little one apparently didn’t like my taste since she liked about two for every thousand I presented. I realized I wasn’t in the right store and there was not enough selection when she said, with a frown, after holding up the last dress, “It is not pink enough, Papa”. Hmmm, that ended my affinity for Ross. “This place”, I grumbled under my breath, “Is just not going to cut it.” So, I put the dresses back, we held hands and I was now tasked to make multiple attempts to answer her question on the way out of the store, “Papa, how come we’re not getting dresses?”

What did I learn? Well, if I watch my little girls’ faces, I can see immediately when the dress selected is going to be a struggle to get on. Whatever is programed into my daughters already has preferences and a sense of what makes them feel good. And, it does me no good to push the issues and say, “Come on, you’ll like it when it is on.” Conversely, without any effort, I can see in their sparkling eyes and blossoming smiles, when I have struck gold and selected the right dress for them. Their faces light up in a way that that makes me feel good inside, to know that I am spending time with my daughters shopping (and not watching the clock) and finding what is important to them.

I’m not sure I will ever know what that perfect dress is. It will likely remain a mystery. But, that’s okay, because I love waiting for their happiness to come and show in the reflection of the mirror we both stand in front of. It is likely a time that is fleeting, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, I know how important Pinkalicious is to my daughters and how important their preferences will be to them for the rest of our lives.

Catholic Single Parents Welcome

Out reach to San Diego Catholic Single Parents follows efforts to reach Catholic dads on the Internet and spread the message that "Faith Formation is job #1", if we as dads are to have any confidence that our children will find a secure way in life.  Outreach to Catholic dads formally began in November of 2008, but the laying of the foundation had taken nearly a decade if not longer.  Since November 2008, CatholicDads.org has received over 50,000 page views.  While the numbers are minimal to website developers, the outreach is significant to parents and their children.

Today, CatholicDads.org launches outreach specifically to San Diego Catholic Single Parents (see our Facebook page for upcoming events).  Why? It is quite simply because being a single parent is not for the faint at heart, and being a Catholic single parent comes with unique challenges, especially in a world where the divorce rate is what we all know it to be, on a very personal level.  As single parents, we are challenged in so many ways, both temporally and spiritually.  And, to go it alone, sets up a struggling family to be vulnerable in many ways we will discuss at another time.

San Diego Catholic Single Parents will undoubtedly go through some changes and growth, but with the fellowship of other Catholic single parents, and in support of our respective families, I am sure the changes will be positive for parents and their children.

This effort in part is born from faith in today's scripture reading:

"Moses spoke to the people and said: 'Now, Israel, hear the statues and decrees which I am teaching you to observe, that you may live, and may enter in and take possession of the land which the Lord, the God of your fathers, is giving you...[and] teach them to your children and to your children's children'" (Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9).

As single parents, we are all the more challenged to teach our faith to our children, and their's.

The challenge is substantial, and thus was the reason the picture of Mary (taken at Whispering Winds, Julian, CA) is our icon and point of focus.  Even though Mary faced a path uncertain, I imagine her determination and faith in God is found in her simple words, "And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done to me according to your word" (New Advent Bible, Luke 1:38).  How often, perhaps as single parents, we must simply have this confidence for God to do wonderful works in our respective lives.   How often, can we be even more confident with others, San Diego Catholic Parents, to find the determination needed to grow ourselves and in turn nurture the growth of our children, and by extension our faith community. 

Welcome San Diego Catholic Single Parents!

Find us on Facebook (San Diego Catholic Single Parents).

Advent, Listening and a Call to Prayer

During the course of my “ministry” there has been little time for listening and deep prayer over this past year, as I continue to actively spread the word “Faith formation is job #1” in the lives of Catholic dads and those of their children. Especially, since there have been over 15,000 page views to CatholicDads.org since November 2008. With that, I have felt the continued passion to encourage dads of all ages (and on any social networking platform I can post on) to be mindful of our important role in the faith formation of our children. Oh, I pray all the time like most faithful dads, but not in a way where I am disposed to even a deeper conversion of the type that causes a wonderful fear of God's obvious actions in one's life. Lately, I know in my core, this is something I am longing for. It may well be the same experience I felt when I took a one day personal / silent retreat at Prince of Peace Abbey, where I found myself “captivated by my Lord” in January 2008. That retreat was the catalyst for becoming a novice oblate and for all events and challenges (painful and not) I now find myself engaged in, and ultimately for the better of my soul and and the souls of others.

As Advent approaches tomorrow, I am listening for Jesus and I have purchased A Companion to the Liturgy of the Hours: Morning and Evening Prayer, along with my first copy of Christian Prayer.

I'm listening....and concurrently shedding many distractions in my life that I have come to realize have been nothing more than chatter to leave me unfulfilled by not acutely hearing what the Lord has to say; the distractions are of the type you find yourself competing with in a nice restaurant where the patrons maintain a dull roar preventing one and a dear friend from connecting on a deeper level that both know is there, but find themselves dissatisfied as the circumstance need to be willfully changed. It is only when one or both say, “Let's get out of here” do they create an opportunity to embark on a stroll to discover what it is they long to connect on.

And, that is where I find myself. Listening in anticipation of connecting with my Savior and wonderfully fearful of what it is that will unfold and the deep prayer that is likely to follow. How do you prepare for Advent? Is your prayer life what you would like it to be?

Thankful

I am pleased my children do not know my current struggles. The Lord and very personal friends and family have been my mainstay. As I sort through some of life's greatest challenges, and while some would consider I am experiencing much loss, I think about what I am thankful for. Here are what is most important to me:

"I have the laughter of my children, their warm embrace, their little stories, and our 'bug hunts' at night. We pray when they go to bed and when they get up; when their friends are sad, for their mom when they miss her, their grandfather who died not long ago, and for others who are less fortunate. We attend Mass during the week. And, we visit our place of worship and still volunteer to clean the area around a Marian statue where others meditate. We tickle each other, we sing together, we talk about silly stuff, and we have a usual routine at night (three nights a week).

My oldest (5 years) shares her insights about life, and tells me new things she is learning everyday at school. My youngest (3 years) makes the sign of the cross by tapping her head three times, and I tell her 'That's perfect, Babe...Good job.' And, she likes to run around during Mass, as I stand their solemnly praying, with one eye open to see she doesn't get too far (okay the tears are really there now). We pray the Lord's Prayer, and we say the Rosary together. We have 'faith reading' and 'Anything we want, Papa?' I love washing their clothes, and trying to keep house for them (though I just hate losing those little socks and not find one or the other's mate in the washer, when I know I put both of them in). And I love making them breakfast, and lunch, packing their snack, and drawing funny faces on their snack bag.

I love helping with homework, and taking their pictures, as they love taking them of me, us and whatever catches their eye at the moment. And, when we used to go out more than we do now, I love watching them be independent and order their own food. I love giving my oldest the opportunity to plan with me the night's course of activities...'Let's see, what is your preference, homework first, bath, dinner, faith reading, movie, get ready for school? What's it going to be?' She loves contributing to our family routine, and doesn't know I'm helping her prioritize, sort, and develop executive functioning skills. I love my little one enjoying the bubbles of her bath, and watching her give her bath toys new life. I love hearing her sing, as she splashes about. And I love my oldest wanting to help me in every way, and having to remind myself to reinforce those skills and teaching moments, even when tired and believing I 'need to get this done.'

I love being called in the middle of night, 'Papa!! Papa!!' for a glass of water, or because an 'accident' occurred, and a change is needed. I love them riding on my shoulders, and pulling my hair until it hurts. I love watching them hug their friends, call their names as if their friends will be for life (and some may be). I love their memories, as they remind me, 'Papa, you said...' and being able to say, 'You are right...Thank you, for reminding me...' I love them growing so fast, their clothes are still new. I love drizzling honey from three feet above the cereal bowl, as they try to interrupt the stream with their little fingers that get 'all sticky'. I love their little shoes, hairbands, broken crayons, perfect drawings, unmade bed, and cuts and scrapes that apparently and magically become better with a small kiss and a hug.

For this, and so much more, I am eternally thankful to my Lord."

"Come what may, girls, I am happy to see you grow. And, with our Lord, we will overcome. Always remember Romans 8:38-39. "


Love, Papa


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Posted: 11.20.2009
Updated: 11.26.2013