On Sleep Deprivation

Ever since I became a parent, I've been particularly struck by the way the Desert Fathers - those early Christians who lived extreme ascetical lives in the desert - embraced sleep deprivation as a spiritual practice. And indeed, I think it is a good idea to be a hermit in the desert if one of your key spiritual practices is sleep deprivation. Because, let's be honest, without adequate sleep it can be very hard to interact patiently and kindly with other people, even (gasp!) if those people are your children or even more so perhaps (gasp! gasp!) your spouse.

And yet, those of us aware of Catholic tradition cannot deny the fact that sleep deprivation or sleep interruption are a part of our history. Aside from the Desert Fathers, we also have the example of religious communities who interrupt their sleep to pray during the night hours. Then there is also long-standing traditions of vigil and midnight Masses that are truly vigils lasting until the next morning.

I've jokingly suggested in the past that maybe the origin for those night hours of prayer came from the knowledge of the lives of parents and a desire to match those sacrifices.

The truth is that parenting involves a 24 hour on-call shift, pretty much seven days a week. My first ever all-nighter was the 5:40 a.m. birth of our first child, and we've been on call ever since. Nor was that first night the last time that being a parent caused sleep deprivation. It is easy to list possible causes of parental sleep deprivation, beginning with the nighttime care required by a newborn. Then there's changing a toddler's wet bed sheets or hearing a five-year old fall out of bed. Later on, there's lying awake in bed waiting for a teenager to come home. And, as a final example, there's that rare (although not rare enough) combination of vomit and sleep deprivation (St. Anthony of the Desert would be envious!).

Sleep deprivation is a real mortification, a genuine death to self that can become an opportunity to grow closer to God, uniting our own struggles to the passion of Jesus Christ. And this is why the Desert Fathers embraced it. That nighttime opportunity to praise God is why the monks rose out of bed in the darkness to shuffle into the chapel and chant psalms.

Of course, for the Desert Fathers and these monks, this was an active mortification; a sacrifice that they knowingly and willingly made and embraced in following their vocation. For those of us who are parents, we often find ourselves unwillingly thrust into situations of sleep deprivation. For example, exhausted at the end of a long day, you drift off to sleep quickly...then wake at the sound of a crying baby at midnight, who you pick up just in time for him to vomit on you...and then, after cleaning up yourself and the baby, and possibly the crib you finally drift off to sleep again...only to be awakened by your husband informing you that your toddler has just vomited on her bed...and then your kids all wake up promptly at 6:00 a.m. as usual, begging you to get out of bed to make them breakfast...after mumbling something incoherent you stumble out of bed, stepping barefoot onto a misplaced toy car...making you angrily snap at whoever is near you. And you wonder when you signed up for this part of parenting and if there's any possible way to revise the contract.

Well, there isn't. So another approach is like that of the Desert Fathers - we can embrace it as part of our vocation. Fortunately, for us it's not an active mortification; we're not purposely depriving  ourselves of sleep on a regular basis. Sometimes we may even sleep all night uninterrupted - hooray! But when our sleep is interrupted, we may as well make the best of it spiritually and accept it as a passive (involuntary) mortification.

Here are a few ideas that might help:
1. First, get to bed at a decent hour. If you hit a rough patch of nighttime parenting, you may need to cut out your relaxation/social time in the evening and turn off your lights an hour earlier than usual. Sometimes this is the hardest part, but it is crucial preparation for making sleep deprivation spiritually meaningful rather than the natural cause of anger and occasion for sin.

2. Say a Night Offering, so as to offer all of your nighttime parenting to God and prepare yourself for the possibility that you will be awakened that night.

3. Use nighttime wakefulness as an opportunity for prayer. If you aren't coherent enough to think of much, it may help to repeat some memorized prayers. The Memorare is a good one because it enlists the help of the Virgin Mary. So also, you might turn to the Rosary. If you are feeling more penitential, you could recite an Act of Contrition or Psalm 51 repeatedly. And of course, there's always the sturdy "station," that is, an Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be.

4. Enlist the help of your spouse when necessary. Have clear expectations as to who is responsible for what, e.g. one gets up during the night, one gets up with the kids in the morning.

5. Do your best to try to rest when you get the chance during the day. If you're feeling sleep deprived, avoid taking on overwhelming projects or tasks. Pray for supernatural rest and patience with your kids and others around you. Remember that this stage of parenting is temporary.

6. If there's a sleep deprivation pattern akin to that practiced by the Desert Fathers, do an evaluation of the situation so as to address the problem before you end up sneaking off to the desert and becoming a hermit simply so you can get some shut-eye in your private cave. If the situation is caused by babies or toddlers, I suggest Elizabeth Pantley's No Cry Sleep Solution books.

Jesus was awake all night in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to his passion. He prayed, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done" (Lk 22:42). So we might also think of him and not be afraid to ask God to remove the cup of sleep deprivation. But if that doesn't happen as we would like, we might as well sanctify our night hours, rather than miss an opportunity to grow closer to God.

Living With and Growing From Imperfect Parenting Circumstances

Being a parent today brings with it a multitude of expectations, or even demands, from society. I have already written about the importance of accepting certain responsibilities, given that parents are the most important role models for their children. The necessity of being a good role model can certainly be a mortification, an occasion to die to oneself in order to live more fully for God. But there is another related mortification experienced by parents, namely, the definite imperfection of one's situation.

Many people have come to recognize that the American model of nuclear family with no additional help puts strains on parents and is not best for the children either. It is important to recognize the structural imperfections of American family life today and strive to correct them as best we can, reaching out to parents in need of  little extra help in various ways. The offer to assist with childcare for free or the act of bringing a meal to parents with a new child are two examples of this.

But even with these efforts to strengthen extra-familial bonds in place of the once strong inter-generational presence found within families, on a practical level, parents will undoubtedly find themselves stuck in less than ideal situations. There are conflicting demands, desires, and always, it seems, NOT ENOUGH TIME to get everything done and have adequate leisure for refreshment. It can become all too easy to reflect on the busy and stressful life of parenting and simply conclude that we will never be able to do it well: there is not enough money, not enough sleep, not enough energy, and not enough time to oneself.

Outsiders increase this sense of inadequacy with the seemingly endless demands placed on "good" parents. These demands include (but are in NO WAY limited to!) the following: spend lots of quality one-on-one time with your spouse take your children to all necessary medical, dental, optical, etc. appointments on schedule; expose your child to cultural events, like art museums and musical/play performances; provide the opportunity for your child to excel in sports; ensure your child's excellent academic performance; eat primarily home-cooked meals made primarily with organic and locally-grown food; ensure complete security and safety of your child; allow your child's failure so he can learn from his mistakes; be consistent with discipline in every circumstance; demonstrate good home organization and cleanliness; etc. And of course, none of the items listed above included the expectations of good Catholic parents who strive to form their children in the faith. Frankly, I'm too exhausted to list all of those right now.

Suffice it to say that with such demands on parents, and such limitations of time, money, sleep, ability, etc. that parents will inevitably be caught in a dire situation where they are doomed to fail. Everyday living as parents just entails inadequacy. Even if the outside world does not catch us in our mistakes as parents, we know them all too well within the home. We have to live constantly with our failures: inconsistent discipline, poorly planned meals, sleep deprivation that leads to impatience and angry yelling, and so on. It is so easy to become exhausted with our situation, and then to blame ourselves for our exhaustion because we are obviously doing something wrong, e.g. not taking enough time for ourselves, not keeping the house well-organized, etc.

Instead, I suggest that the first step for us parents in these imperfect circumstances is simply to accept them as they are and even thank God for them. They may not be to our likes and preferences, and that is precisely what makes an imperfect situation a wonderful involuntary mortification. Imperfect circumstances can become an opportunity to conform our will to God's, trying to trust in God and do the best in the situation we have been handed. In this we die to ourselves in order to live more fully for God.

Here I draw particularly upon Fr. Jacques Philippe, the wonderful French spiritual writer who describes this temptation that can greatly impede spiritual progress: "in the situation which is ours (personal, family, etc., we lack something essential and that because of this our progress, and the possibility of blossoming spiritually is denied us" (all quotations from Part II, Ch. 8 of Searching for and Maintaining Peace). We may say "I am not satisfied with my life, with my person, with my circumstances and I live constantly with the feeling that as long as things are such, it will be impossible for me to live truly and intensely."

Philippe suggests that wishing for circumstances to change is often an error: "It is not the exterior circumstances that must change; it is above all our hearts that must change." We must strive for certitude that God is present, providing for our needs. When people embrace this attitude, "they will see that many of he circumstances that they thought negative and damaging to their spiritual life are, in fact, in God's pedagogy, powerful means for helping them to progress and grow."

Philippe adds "Our minds are sometimes so clouded over by that which is not going well, by that which (according to our own particular criteria!) should be different in our situations, that we forget the positive." In contrast with this problematic focus on the negative, we should recognize that imperfections can help us to grow in humility and confidence in God. Philippe concludes Chapter 8 with these words:

"God may allow me to occasionally lack money, health, abilities and virtues, but He will never leave me in want of Himself, of His assistance and His mercy or of anything that would allow me to grow unceasingly ever closer to Him, to love Him more intensely, to better love my neighbor and to achieve holiness."

This is not an excuse to avoid problem-solving difficult parenting situations that you may encounter in daily life. Nor is it a reason to lack sympathy and compassion for parents that feel overwhelmed by their responsibilities. But it is the summons for a change of heart for those of us who often find our circumstances complicated and trying. We must resolve to stop bemoaning the very many, many demands on parents and to stop despairing of our constant inadequacy to meet these demands in such an imperfect situation. Instead of telling ourselves that we don't have enough time, we must tell ourselves that we have just enough time. We have just enough time to love God, love our spouses, and love our kids. We have just enough time to do God's will in the present moment and with the present circumstances, no matter how imperfect those circumstances may appear to us at first glance.

On False Crosses and the Inconveniences of Parenthood

In years past, the word "mortification" was sometimes used in a harsh or unsympathetic way. "Offer it up!" is an exclamation that can be used in a supportive way or critically. To offer it up simply means to take a challenge or suffering and to offer it to God as a prayer. It is a powerful way of uniting our difficulties to the passion of Christ and growing closer to our Lord through it. As I've mentioned before, the vocation of marriage and parenthood can provide wonderful opportunities for mortification, dying to self so as to live for Christ, loving God and those around us. Parenting involves numerous challenges; offering these difficulties to God assures that they will not be wasted.

The suffering involved in parenting mortification, however, can be misunderstood. As I mentioned above, "Offer it up!" can be used kindly as a way to encourage others, or it can be used unsympathetically in order to cut off someone's complaining. When it comes to parenting mortification, we have to be careful in discerning true crosses from the false crosses, that is, the crosses that we set up for ourselves. We shouldn't solve every parenting problem by telling ourselves unsympathetically that we simply need to offer it up.

This is significant because as parents we already have numerous struggles or inconveniences that truly are involuntary, e.g. the daughter who is diagnosed with a chronic health condition such as asthma, the son who just learned to open the backdoor and has temporarily escaped, or the baby who needs a diaper change. These are opportunities for mortification. If we embrace these challenges willingly and with generosity, though we'd genuinely prefer to have avoided them, then we can grow closer to God.

On the other hand, there are some mortifications that we set up for ourselves by insufficient parenting or by problems in our attitude. These are the false crosses that we ought to avoid such that we can concentrate on the crosses given to us and embrace them cheerfully. It's not always easy to tell the difference between a false cross and a true cross when it comes to the inconveniences of parenthood, and that is why it is worthwhile to reflect on these difficulties frequently.

There are numerous examples of false crosses that I could mention. Have you ever been tired and cross with your children? Was this because the baby was teething and kept you up all night? Or was it because you kept yourself up past midnight catching up on Facebook or finishing a novel or watching a movie? Regardless of the circumstance, you can offer up the tiredness and frustration as a prayer to God... but if you are perpetually tired and cranky with your kids because of your own lack of discipline in getting to bed at a decent hour, then you are setting up a false cross for yourself.

Have you had a particularly difficult week disciplining your child? Was it because she is having problems at school and feeling stressed about keeping up on her homework? Or was it because you were too busy chatting with your sister on the phone to notice that he was drawing all over the wall in an attempt to get your attention? Feel free to offer your frustrations to God either way... but if your son seems usually to rely on negative attention in order to get some feedback from you, you are setting up a false cross for yourself.

Are you resentful that you don't have more alone time? Is that because you have no time to rejuvenate yourself so as to be a better parent? Or is it because you have unrealistic expectations for free time based on your childless days? Either way, tell God all about it... but if you expect to hang out with friends every night like you did in college and are disappointed that you can't, you are setting up a false cross for yourself.

First, it is helpful to pause periodically, perhaps at the end of the night, and quickly identify a few difficulties or inconveniences that you think might have been avoidable. For example, perhaps there was a complete meltdown in the house of all children becoming suddenly very needy right at 4:30 when you were trying to cook dinner.

Secondly, ask yourself, does this happen frequently? If the answer is yes, you might want to think about how the problem could be avoided. Is it possible to start on dinner a little earlier in the day, maybe make a slow-cooker meal more often? Do your kids get a well-timed afternoon snack? Would it be reasonable to allow your kids 30 minutes of television time while you are trying to cook?

Third, put your plan into action. Get that chili in the slow-cooker in the morning, or put together your tuna casserole right after lunch so you can put it in the oven at 4:30.

Fourth, reevaluate the situation. Did it work? Can you make a habit of avoiding this problem?

Fifth, when you fail... offer it up, and try, try again.

Discernment is critical for good parenting mortification. There are some issues, like parental sleep deprivation, where it is not always clear whether you've set up the cross yourself or not. You may want to read a book like Elizabeth Pantley's No Cry Sleep Solution for trying to work out whether a sleep situation is working and making a plan if it isn't. At other times, the solution to a particular problem may simply take time to figure out, like arranging quiet space for a child that has difficulty concentrating on her homework with younger siblings running around. And there are some issues that take a great deal of commitment and perseverance, and willingness to admit failure and begin again, such as managing and correcting a child's rudeness.

The point here is simply that parenting mortification is NOT about making your life as difficult as you possibly can. As I've mentioned before, difficulties will find you when you are a parent. Don't arrange a field of false crosses for your self in addition to the true crosses. In so doing, you run the risk of "playing the martyr," seeing your parenthood as one long period of suffering and yourself with little potential to improve it. Embrace suffering as generously as you can, but don't let your own bad parenting or unreasonable expectations become the main cause of that suffering...that's not good for your kids, nor is it ultimately good for you.

Loving Spouse and Children...at the same time!

Living with the imperfections and idiosyncrasies of one's spouse can be a challenge. But sometimes another difficulty arises, namely, trying to be loving and attentive to one's spouse while also being loving and attentive to one's children.

We often hear presented a dichotomy of priorities: Kids first, spouse second! Or: Spouse first, kids second!

It makes sense that these options are presented in such a manner inasmuch as parents often experience a real conflict in being attentive both to a spouse and to kids. The first camp will argue that that kids are more evidently needy than one's adult spouse. The energy we put into caring for our kids is likely much more than we dedicate to caring for a spouse, who can eat, bathe, dress, etc. without assistance. Our kids' dependence upon us makes them our first priority.

The second camp will say that family life cannot succeed if the parents fail to prioritize the marriage relationship itself, between the husband and wife. The kids are important but should come second to the spousal relationship. In case of a conflict, attentiveness to the needs of the spouse should win out.

As mentioned above, such a dichotomy indicates a real challenge that parents face: to love spouse and children at the same time. And yet, this presentation can be quite misleading.

Spousal love is the foundation of marriage; family is built upon this relationship. Children follow upon this love; we can even say they are incarnations of this love. Spousal love precedes the love for one's children, and it should not be cast aside or demoted when children make their appearance.

Yet at the same time, we have to acknowledge that the acts of love that characterized courtship and early marriage become more difficult when children are present. The diversion of finances to support children can prevent indulging a spouse in filet mignon, fine wine, chocolates, and roses. The relaxed quality time together becomes rarer. Opportunities for physical affection and intimacy become harder to find. The effort of serving children by caring for them can drain a parent of the effort required to serve the spouse as before. And in the midst of the numerous challenges of parenting, such as sleep deprivation, having your belongings destroyed by kids, being insulted by your kids, and so on, it can be hard to remember to appreciate your spouse verbally in compliments and kind words of affirmation.

Clearly, then, we are presented with the challenge of loving our spouse and our children at the same time. It cannot be an either-or, wherein we focus solely on our spouse and ignore our children or focus entirely on our children and ignore our spouse. The situation may often appear to us as imperfect. A spouse may arrive home from work with big news to share just as a child vomits on the floor. The baby may wake up for a feeding just as you and your spouse finally sat down to start your game of Scrabble. Your romantic anniversary dinner may be postponed due to a trip to the emergency room for a broken arm. It may seem that children are interfering with the relationship or intruding upon the marriage relationship.

Yet the apparent imperfection of the situation seems to be God's will: the spouse is a gift, and so also children are a gift to the spouses. And if God wills it, we must find some way to embrace the challenge. Here's where mortification enters the picture: loving both spouse and children at the same time will certainly require a death to self. If we accept the opportunity to die to self, God will give us the grace to love spouse and children as best we can.

To be more practical, here are a few ideas to ensure that we do our best with this situation:

1. Because kids are needier than the spouse, it is easier to neglect a spouse. Therefore, it will be important to make an intentional effort to love and spend time with the spouse. Daily practical efforts include remembering a morning kiss and hug, pouring the spouse's coffee, getting out of bed on time to make sure the morning goes smoothly, putting down a tablet when the spouse enters the room, and so on. Ensuring an opportunity for conversation on a daily basis is also helpful. On a weekly basis, it is beneficial to have some set aside time without kids - a date night, for example. Of course we want to love and be attentive to the spouse, but consistency in effort to these little acts can become a mortification, where we have to put aside ourselves in order to love a spouse well.

2. When it comes to spending time with a spouse, don't let the best get in the way of the good. We often have an easy time envisioning an ideal:  a romantic, week-long trip to the Caribbean with no kids or a three-course meal at a fancy French restaurant. Upon recognizing that these ideals are not possible, many respond by giving up and doing nothing to spend time together. It is often possible, however, to come up with another option. A regular date night may appear impossible with multiple young children who are difficult at the time you'd be leaving them with a sitter; going out later would mean being tired and unable to enjoy the meal. And the cost of a nice weekly dinner out may be unrealistic. But what about Saturday morning breakfast, when the kids are better-behaved for the sitter, you are both wide awake, and you can get a bagel or pastries with coffee and not spend too much money? It may be a far cry from the luxuries of courtship. It may not be the ideal; it may not be the plan for quality time 20 years from now. For the present moment, however, it is better than not doing anything together. Working with the current situation while maintaining flexibility and the possibility of reevaluation can also be a mortification; we may need to kill our ideas of "best" and recognize that what is actually "best" at this time is sticking to something that is possible.

3. Caring for children is a way of loving a spouse. Time spent with children should not be viewed as set against the time spent with the spouse. When a parent cares for children well, with love and attentiveness, he or she is loving a spouse through this service. Sometimes, this is obvious, like when one gets up early with the kids so the spouse can catch up on sleep. At other times, this truth is not as apparent. Nonetheless, parents do the best they can caring for children and performing other work in order to contribute and serve the family as a whole. The children should not be seen as "mine" or "my project." Whether father or mother is interacting with the children, the sacrifices involved are not simply for the sake of the children themselves, but for the marriage. A parent's time spent at work earning money can also be seen as a way of loving one's spouse. With this perspective, it is important to work well, for the sake of the family, and also to work efficiently (not wasting time) so as to maximize presence and contributions to the home.

4. Because loving spouse and children at the same time can often seem difficult or even impossible, it is important to make a frequent examination of one's efforts. Spouses can benefit from reflecting on existing problems, such as being too busy to have time for each other or letting screens interrupt opportunities for conversation. Accompanying this examination is a willingness to change, even when it is difficult.

5. Of course, even with the willingness to change, failure is imminent. The demands of parenting may make it difficult to be loving and kind to one's spouse. After a hard day with kids, it can be challenging to be attentive to conversation. With the touch-time required by toddlers and infants, it may be hard to attend to a nightly spousal holding time or even to remember a goodnight kiss. As with any failure, however, parents have to be willing to try again, seeking the sacrament of confession regularly for support in the struggle.

6. It is a challenge to love spouse and children simultaneously. To meet their needs, to be affectionate, etc. Rather than cursing this challenge or regretting the situation, however, we are best off embracing the difficulty. It is a mortification; it requires a death to self and dependence on God's grace to do one's best when conflict ensues.

7. Keep the big picture. In the beginning of the marriage, the home began with the husband and wife. Eventually, it is likely that the children will leave and the home will once more consist solely of husband and wife. It may seem so far off in the future as to be inconceivable, but this is the normal course of marriage and family life. With this end in mind, it makes sense to maintain and strengthen the marriage relationship, the friendship between husband and wife. Retrospectively, all those sacrifices embraced in the midst of parenting will make more sense; they were helping all along to help husband and wife to grow in the generous gift of self.

It can be frustrating, and even discouraging to try to love and attend to a spouse and children at the same time. And yet, it is a wonderful opportunity to realize our limits and weaknesses, to embrace the challenge as a mortification, and to beg God's grace to help us to do the best we can to love him and serve him in this situation.

Letting Go and Fostering Independence

We hear a lot these days about "helicopter parents" and the younger generation that take their parents with them on their adult job interviews. Although I don't tend toward helicopter parenting myself, I can easily identify with these parents because, well, I love my kids. I like being around them, and I even enjoy taking care of them (most of the time, that is). I admit I get sentimental when I give away a bag of my kids' outgrown clothes or review old baby photos. I'm constantly telling my kids that they do NOT have my permission to grow up.

But they keep doing it anyway. An obviously important part of parenting is to foster independence in our children: "to give them wings," as my mom always said. The risk of giving our kids wings is that they may fly away. But let's not forget that this is ultimately what we want. We want them to exercise their freedom well, to grow in responsibility, maturity, and sanctity, even if that means they do fly away from us.

Fostering independence and letting go may not seem at first glance to be a parenting mortification in the way that things like sleep deprivation or getting insulted by our children certainly constitute real parenting challenges. Nonetheless, fostering independence and letting go require the same sort of sacrifice in that they demand a constant supernatural narration that looks at a bigger picture than simply the moment at hand.

Let's get practical here and talk about young children. They start off as babies and need you to do everything for them. Then they start to get older and want to do things for themselves. It may sound great, but anyone who has been running late and waiting waiting waiting for a child to put on his own shoes know that it's not always a great thing for a child to exercise independence. Patience is certainly a key virtue to exercise when we seek to foster our children's independence. The fact is that it is easier, faster, and much less messy to bake cookies without the help from a 2-year old and a 4-year old (see photo above). It is easier to toss a child's socks in a clothes hamper than to track him down and encourage him to do it. It is simpler to clean up their messes, and when company is arriving in five minutes, perfectly advisable.

The rest of the time, however, we have to be willing to address our own impatience at children's ability (or lack thereof) to help in the way we want them to do. It is a mortification, a death to self, to delay the timeliness of our own tasks in order to involve kids in a way that fosters their independence. Especially in a busy household, the extra minutes it takes can seem to last much longer than they actually do.

From a natural perspective, however, the results of parental impatience are easily seen in our culture today. There are parents who complain that their middle school children take no responsibility for their homework; these are sometimes the same children who turned in perfect school projects in elementary school because their parents had taken control and done it all for them. There are busy parents who find it faster to throw their toddler's dirty clothes into the hamper for them, only to realize when the child is eight that she now expects the parents to do it all for her.

If we want to foster independence in our children, we have to encourage and accept their help even when it is really not all that helpful...and often even when it is an inconvenience. Embracing this sacrifice helps our children in multiple ways. It allows them to take responsibility for their actions and belongings. It helps them to feel that they can contribute to a household. It enables them to express their freedom and individuality rather than feeling constantly constrained by controlling adults. It forms them in good habits as regards work ethics. All of these skills will aid children to grow in virtue and holiness because really, we parents can't do that all for them.

When we think about letting go and fostering independence from a supernatural perspective, we see that it certainly can be a beneficial parenting mortification. If we can accept letting go and fostering independence as a sacrifice, we can die to self by relinquishing our own desires to control our children as extensions of ourselves. We admit to ourselves that we don't really choose their talents, their interests, or their future careers. We can't predict or dictate every parenting situation that might arise.

This simple act of letting go can be a great reminder that ultimately we are not in charge, we are not in control; God guides us and challenges us. We respond in the most loving way that we can in order to serve God, even if that means letting a daughter put up homemade (dumb) "Halloween decorations" in the front yard or letting a son "clean up" his spilled smoothie by smearing it in a six foot radius. At the moment these things may be an embarrassment or an inconvenience, but in the bigger picture, the larger supernatural narrative, they contribute to the child's growth and our own growth that comes from making the sacrifice.

We can thank God for opportunities to work on our impatience with our kids as they seek and struggle to learn how to do things on their own. We can thank God for using our children to remind us that growth is a continual process, for us as well as for them. We can ask God to help us give our kids wings, so that they can fly to God in whatever they do...even if that means they fly away from us.

Compassion and the Suffering of Our Children

(Station 4 from the outdoor stations at the mission in Santa Barbara, CA)
Photo credit: Damian Gadal

In many of my parenting mortification posts, I've dwelt on topics where we as parents have to deal with difficulties that directly affect us, physically and emotionally. Sleep deprivation, getting insulted, and having our possessions damaged are all challenges of parenting that become great opportunities to mortify ourselves - to die to self and live for God by turning our lack of choice in some circumstances into a choice to serve God.

The topic of this post is a little different - rooted not in those things that understandably inconvenience and annoy us - but rather, it is a challenge that stems precisely from the love we have for our children and our consequent desire for their well-being and happiness. We don't like to see our children in pain or suffering and as parents, we are supposed to do our best to address these issues. But sometimes we simply cannot remove the pain and suffering. How can we deal with this challenge?

I remember my first experience of maternal compassion, which began within the first days of my oldest child's birth. Already she had taken up permanent residence in my heart, and I felt that instinctual compulsion to protect her from all harm, holding her close to me as much as I could. So when it came time for a newborn jaundice test requiring a heel prick and a tiny vial of her blood, I actually cried for the few minutes it took the phlebotomist to collect enough blood. Again, with her first vaccines, I struggled knowing that we were causing her such pain and that she had no understanding as to why we would do this to her when she trusted us so implicitly. I literally could not handle it; I had to have my husband hold her down while the nurse administered the shots. That's how acute my maternal compassion was when it came to my child's suffering.

It's a bit embarrassing to admit the above in retrospect. I certainly have the perspective of a bigger picture now that the oldest has been around for almost eight years. Yet, even with my fourth, I sorrowed for him to spend his first days after birth in an isolated bassinet receiving phototherapy, punctuated primarily by regular visits from the nurses to prick his heel for another blood test. When breastfeeding time came, I put all my energy into making up for those hours away from me, and when I had to put him back under the lights, I  spent much of my time out of bed, singing to him as I stood next to the bassinet touching him in whatever way I could given the circumstances.

Bearing witness to the suffering of a child beyond the newborn stage does not get any easier. Rather, it becomes more varied and complex. In addition to seeing the pain of the first bumped heads and scraped knees, there are the longer illnesses, achy heads, sick stomachs, sore throats, and all the common ailments that life on this earth brings. Sometimes there are big injuries that require trips to the emergency room. There are chronic health problems that require constant attention. Then, add to this the sometimes even more difficult suffering caused by learning how to interact with others - the emotional pain when a child is teased or bullied for the first time, when a child is inexplicably hit or bit or otherwise antagonized by another kid at the park. There is the suffering that comes with disappointment in performance on a test at school or lack of confidence in abilities and talents.

Though the other topics I've discussed before are all instances of feeling less control over our situations than we'd like, this experience of parenting perhaps is the best example of feeling absolutely helpless and powerless. We want so much to prevent their suffering, to ease their pain, and yet sometimes the best we can do is to lift up the toilet seat and hold back their hair as they vomit. We can comfort, we can alleviate, we can sympathize, but as parents we often find that we cannot take away their pain.

In short, this is life. When we look back over our own life and even current circumstances, we see that we ought not be surprised that our kids also will feel physical pain and endure emotional suffering. But that doesn't really make it easier for us. Like all occasions for parenting mortification, this is hard. It is difficult. It is a challenge.

But it is also an opportunity. It is an opportunity to turn to God in prayer, to lament openly to God the suffering of our children, to beg God to intervene or to bring comfort. It is an opportunity to die to ourselves and our own plans for our children and to live for God, taking as our model the maternal compassion of Mary as she endured her only Son's passion and death. The counterpart to his passion was her compassion. She loved him so much that she would have borne for him whatever of his pain that she could, but her role was to enter into it, not with the physical burden of the cross, but with her own suffering of compassion.

Like other parenting mortifications, the suffering of our children becomes invaluable as a way of growing in love, virtue, and holiness. Like any other mortification, we can offer up this pain and our sharing in this pain as a prayer to God. In so doing it ceases to become simply an instance of suffering and becomes a moment of grace; it is no longer about anger and resentment but generosity in bearing the cross and entering into that suffering.

Practically speaking, there are three important tasks that will enable the suffering of our children and our coincident compassion to become spiritually fruitful for us and for them. The first is for us to improve on our view of mortification in our own lives. By embracing other parenting mortifications, as well as our regular physical discomforts or emotional disappointments, we train ourselves to re-narrate the sufferings of our children in a more positive light. We can see suffering in a supernatural light, with the potential to increase our sanctity and bring us closer to our final end. We detest seeing our children in pain and that's precisely why we can accept it as a gift that we would never have chosen.

Secondly, it is truly worthwhile to encourage your children, at a young age, to accept the challenges, pains, and sufferings of childhood as their first instances of mortification. We have one daughter who, fighting a stomach bug at age three, offered all of her sickness for the needs and intentions of the pope. As she stood uneasily in front of the toilet clutching her belly, she pronounced, "this is for the pope!" before leaning over to vomit. It wasn't fun for any of us, but her simple prayer and willingness to offer her suffering brought meaning to her sickness for her and was a powerful witness for her parents, who strive with difficulty to do what she had done in utter simplicity and trust in the efficacy of mortification as prayer.

The last and most obvious task is simply to be compassionate to our children when we cannot eliminate their pain, to share in their sufferings and difficulties, to offer kind words and warm embraces, to make toast and herbal tea, to sympathize, to read books with them on their sickbeds, to take them to the doctor kindly and generously when needed, to distract them from the pain if necessary, to pray with them, to encourage them when helpful, to love them and love them and love them in the midst of their suffering.

Enjoying the Consolations of Parenthood

I once had a confessor ask me if I was "mortifying" myself with respect to the beautiful weather. Given that the theme of this blog is parenting mortification, I obviously have given some thought to the topic of mortification. But I was still a bit surprised by his question, and I informed him right away that enjoying beautiful weather was one of the main perks of my job as a mom, and hence I had been indulging in the beautiful weather, not mortifying myself by avoiding it.

There are many mortifications involved in parenthood. So far I've only written on a few of them. But suffice it to say that in many ways, parenting is hard. It provides many challenges and a constant push for parents to die for themselves and live for God by serving their family. But let's be honest...most parents don't take on the parenthood endeavor with fantasies about sleep deprivation, having our possessions destroyed by children, getting insulted, and so on. Those mortifications are blessings because they draw us beyond selfishness to a happier and holier way of life...but they weren't our main aspirations when we became parents.

Mortifications are great, but on the other hand, there are also consolations of parenthood, and these too have the potential to draw us beyond selfishness. By consolations I mean those things for which parents hope before even  having children: snuggling with a newborn, seeing a child's first steps, comforting an injured child, listening to a toddler explanation, sharing fun activities, and yes, spending most of the day outside enjoying beautiful weather rather than cooped up in an office behind a desk.

It sometimes happens, however, that we parents let these consolations of parenting pass by without our notice. I know this from my own experience. Standing in front of me is a cute little toddler wanting a hug (who will only be this size for a tiny fraction of his life), but I'd rather get him out of the way so I can finish vacuuming. Sitting next to me at lunch is a beautiful and funny girl who will soon spend the bulk of her time in elementary school, but I'd really like to glance at the news headlines on my iPad. And here's my chance to listen to a little boy's reprise of a story I told him earlier in the day, but I really need to outline a blog post. And I'll get another chance tomorrow to enjoy his creative stories, right?

Occasionally it seems that it is easier to appreciate blessings when they come in the form of mortifications than in the form of consolations. Mortifications seem to require an active embrace. Consolations can be passively ignored or postponed.

Yet when we ignore or postpone the consolations of parenthood, we miss an important opportunity for gratitude. In our children, God has given us the most amazing gifts...little people who often look like us or talk like us. Little people who depend upon us and love us. Little people who seek our comfort and attention and affection. Little people with bright smiles, warm hugs, and funny remarks. If we can thank God for the challenges of parenting, we ought certainly to thank God for these consolations. Likewise, our gratitude should extend to the other benefits of parenthood, like having an excuse to be outside at a park on a nice day or getting to go sledding in the wintertime. There's also the joy of sharing our children with others, and seeing the delight on their faces as they appreciate the cuteness that we as parents so often take for granted. And then there's the wonderful consolation of sharing our hobbies (sports, music, fossil-hunting!) or favorite books, movies, and music with our kids. It's so fun to have children taking an interest in our interests! And one other great consolation is certainly that of sharing the faith with our children, sharing in their sacramental life through baptism and first communion.

These consolations truly are wonderful blessings that can help us to die to ourselves in order to live for God. We know that we have done nothing to "earn" our children, nor can we ever do more for them than has already been done for us by God. The experience of God's generosity in these consolations should temper the mortifications of parenthood, strengthening in us a sense of awe for God's goodness.

So let's not allow these consolations of parenthood to pass us by unnoticed. Take a moment to enjoy the snuggles, the warmth and cuddliness of children. Don't miss that funny story because you're worried about a household chore. Put down the phone and pick up your toddler and a favorite book. Admire your daughter's new roller skating skills. Spend less time criticizing and more time smiling. Worry less about your career and care more about how quickly childhood passes. Stop trying to capture the moment on a camera and instead store this memory in your heart.

Though parenting mortification is valuable, so also is parenting consolation. Both should bring us beyond our own narrow concerns and increase our gratitude for the blessings of parenthood, helping us to love God more each day and grow closer to God through our daily work as parents.

On Failure and the Sacrament of Confession

By now it's probably obvious that I think parenting mortification is a great idea. Suddenly even things that seem bad - from sleep deprivation to a sick kid - can be viewed more positively, as opportunities for dying to self and living for God. Ideally, we parents who have embraced the daily sacrifices of parenting in this way would deal gracefully with each challenge that besets us, seeing every difficulty as a blessing that allows us to look beyond natural inconvenience to supernatural significance.

In reality, even those who embrace parenting mortification (or write a blog about it!) can fail in trying to live it out. It's wonderful to have thought about how to embrace particular problems of parenting, as well as discerning false crosses, and striving to find prayer to sustain ourselves spiritually in the midst of parenting. But let's face it, we all fail to embrace our crosses (parenting-related or otherwise) at some point. Sometimes that failure is partly the result of difficult circumstances. But at other times that rejection of the cross is an embrace of the self, whether purposeful or caused by a lack of recollection, examination, and reflection.

There are times that we not only fail to bear cheerfully with our burdens, but in addition to losing that opportunity, we also sin by complaining bitterly about them, taking out our frustration by yelling angrily at our kids or spouse, and then staying up too late consoling ourselves with ice cream and a novel. At times this can even become a cycle, since staying up late can make us tired the next day and impatient and perhaps needy for affirmation, which doesn't always come on demand from our children. Like defiant little kids, we may recognize that we've done something wrong but respond to it indignantly, behaving even worse than before and making angry excuses for ourselves.

Of course, that doesn't solve the problem or ultimately make us feel any better about the sins we commit toward others, including our children. Like those defiant little kids, what we really want is forgiveness, a merciful embrace that affirms us and our efforts, eases our burdens, erases our sins, and gives us the strength to try again.

Such an aid is readily available to us in the sacrament of confession.

Here are a few ideas for dealing with the failure of parenting mortification and the sin that may accompany it. At the moment when you catch yourself, mid-sarcastic remark or mid-yell or mid-complaint (or even post-sarcastic remark, etc.) try to stop immediately and recollect yourself. Calm down. Admit to yourself you could handle this better. If you still feel ill at ease, say an Act of Contrition. You can even say it multiple times. Make a mental note of the sin to remember it later. Now, move on. Get up and try again.

Before you go to bed, make an effort to do a good examination of conscience where you identify those sins from earlier in the day, and say another Act of Contrition. If you do this every night, you may begin to identify patterns or name particular difficulties with which you really struggle. Maybe it's yelling or being distracted by your iPhone or spending more time cleaning than interacting with your kids or not being kind enough to your spouse at the end of the day.

So the next step is to go to confession, and bring those sins with you. Then, leave them in the confessional. And begin again.

When you sin again, confess again, and try again.

You may not see any progress being made. You may feel like you are struggling with the same sins each week. But with regular (weekly, monthly) practice of the sacrament of confession and effort strengthened with God's grace, you will improve. You will get better at embracing parenting mortification. You will even get better at getting up again after a failure. Grace can do that, meeting us where we are and raising us beyond where our natural abilities would leave us.

*****
Unfortunately, many Catholics have had poor experiences of the sacrament of confession. I can count myself among them. But it would be a mistake to forego the sacrament just because of one, or two, or more bad experiences, especially since this sacrament is such a help for parents who seek to embrace the mortifications of parenthood. So here are a few tips to make the most of the sacrament.

1. Prepare yourself well. Frequent examinations of conscience allow you to "have your sin always before you" so that you are able to make a good confession. Pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit to help you receive the sacrament well. If you get tongue-tied or nervous, you may want to jot down your sins on a piece of paper.

2. Go regularly to the sacrament. The Catholic Church prescribes a minimum of annual use of the sacrament of confession. But if we really view it as an opportunity for grace that will strengthen us in the difficult tasks of parenting, it will be hard to make such little use of the sacrament. Monthly or weekly use of the sacrament forms us in the habit of identifying our sins, confessing them, seeking to amend for them, and trying to avoid them in the future. The grace of the sacrament aids us in these struggles.

3. Find a good confessor. This may be a difficult task, but it makes a huge difference. Finding a good confessor can take resourcefulness and perseverance. You may have just have to try out various parishes or you may be able to ask around to see if your good Catholic friends have recommendations. You may have to pray for God to send you someone, and you may have to be patient. During this time, try to focus on the efficacy of the sacrament. Even if your confessor doesn't seem to understand you or your situation and hence gives you what you consider bad advice (or excuses your sins, saying they aren't really sins), so long as he absolves you, you are receiving grace. God will continue to help and strengthen you in your struggles against sin regardless of the skill or demeanor of the priest who hears your confession.

4. Employ a particular, as well as a general examination of conscience. In other words, pick one particular sin to address. When you confess your sins, you'll likely have a few areas of struggle, but identifying one issue to focus on can really help you make progress. For example, you may be especially prone to yelling angrily at your children when you are trying to rush them out the door in the morning. Or you may realize that you are not as affectionate to one of your children as you are to the others. You may not be communicating effectively with your spouse regarding your schedule, and then blaming him when he fails to adhere to that schedule. Of course we need to try to avoid all sin, but it can be overwhelming to work on all our weaknesses at once. So a simple resolution concerning one particular struggle can be truly beneficial in aiding us to chip away at patterns of sin in our lives. By "simple" resolution, I mean something like, smile in the morning and embrace the kids the first time you see them for the day. Or get out of bed earlier so that you can slow down the morning rush. Or check in weekly with your spouse concerning the family agenda. Try to end each day with an examination of conscience and Act of Contrition.

5. Provide some background. Before you find a regular confessor, or for those times when you go to confession to someone other than your regular confessor, it is helpful for the priest if you provide some information about yourself, e.g. "I am a married father of four young children, employed as an accountant at a manufacturing company." You may mention your particular resolution, "In the past week, I've been working especially on trying to be affectionate to my oldest son, who has been going through a very obstinate phase. I think I made progress on that early in the week, but I became so frustrated with him yesterday in the evening that I didn't even tell him goodnight when he went to bed." Such context about your state of life and your past sin struggles and resolutions may prevent the confessor from misinterpreting or undermining your confession. Also, it is OK to challenge the priest if you feel he is too easily dismissing your sins. Something akin to, "Father, I respect your opinion but I don't think you understand my situation. I didn't come here for a psychological back-pat; I want you to trust my examination of conscience and absolve the sins I've identified."

6. Don't give up if you have a bad experience. This is a sacrament, after all, and is an important source of grace, whether you "feel" it to be helpful or not.

The Big Picture: Living in the Moment, Dying in the Moment

(Sometimes you need a photo so you don't forget that moment...)

One of the aims of parenting mortification is to help parents keep the bigger supernatural picture in mind. It's so easy in the midst of busy family life to fail to integrate a spiritual perspective. We often tend to let the challenges and difficulties of life bog us down in stress and a sense of failure rather than seeing these challenges and difficulties as opportunities to grow closer to God. The big picture of our parenting - from a Catholic perspective - involves being a part of a narrative that includes creation, the fall, redemption through Jesus, and the gift of being able to participate even now in that paschal mystery of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

Just as it is difficult to keep that supernatural big picture in mind when faced by a particular parenting issue, it can also be hard to see the bigger picture as it pertains to the lives of the children we're raising. I still remember the pie chart pictured in one of my pregnancy books from nine years ago. It was entitled something like "The Pie of Life" and highlighted that infancy is a very, very short period in the life of a person, a tiny sliver of the pie chart. We all know that, but it is easy to get caught up in the challenges of the moment and fail to appreciate the brevity of infancy and childhood.

Most of us parents with younger children have probably encountered someone with older or adult children who smiles sadly and says something such as, "It goes by so quickly." In my early parenting years of stress and exasperation, I often secretly thought, "I wish it would go by a little quicker!" The feelings of inadequacy, too much to do, sleep deprivation, etc. combined for a lack of consistent appreciation for that brief period of infancy. Now that I have my fifth baby, and my first baby is now almost nine years old, I find myself nodding in agreement when someone comments about the time going by so quickly. I am constantly mourning the passing of my kids' babyhoods, toddlerhoods, and childhoods.

There are two ways to "live in the moment" when it comes to raising children. The first is problematic: it is the form of living in the moment that is characterized by stress and anxiety: being "stuck in the moment." We agonize over our parenting failures and worry excessively about our kids' behavior. We seek escape from the difficulties and sometimes find it in unhelpful outlets, such as entertainment that involves a screen (television, Facebook, etc.). We feel desperation and lack of energy and turn to yelling, sarcasm, or unkind words toward our children and spouse. With this perspective, everything in the whole world centers on us. We are not living the moment so much as stuck in the moment with a very limited viewpoint. It is a burden to live this way, and a greater burden still because we see no end in sight, no way out of the difficulties and stress.

Being stuck in the moment like that means we are unable to appreciate it for what it is. I've been there, and I now regret it. It goes by so quickly. If I had it to do over again, my early parenting years would involve more smiling and less yelling.

In contrast, living in the moment with a bigger picture means recognizing that childhood is fleeting, that the "slice of infancy" in the pie of life is very, very small for each one of our children. Living in the moment with the bigger picture, allows us (usually) to laugh off the totally irrational toddler tantrum in response to being denied a popsicle for breakfast. It enables us to treasure the nighttime wake-ups snuggling with a newborn and to enjoy the early wake-up call from a kiddo in fuzzy footsie monster pajamas. It helps us to appreciate the chaotic family dinner with spilled drinks, rice on the floor, and recaps of the day at school or trip to the doctor.

Keeping the bigger picture in mind can be a powerful aid for parenting mortification. If we can truly live in the moment (rather than being stuck in the moment), we can also better die in the moment. We can die to ourselves, embracing the sacrifices and challenges of parenting knowing that these particular difficulties will not last forever. These are opportunities given to us in the present day; these little mortifications are ways of loving God now, at this moment. We are given by God these little people with their own minds, their own wills, their own souls. They are sometimes silly, sometimes snuggly, sometimes messy, sometimes loud, sometimes rude, sometimes dangerous, sometimes cute, sometimes smelly. God gives us the capacity to love them as they are and to guide them to Himself. It goes by so quickly. Don't miss the opportunity to live and die in the moment.

The Spouse: The Ultimate Mortification

Once when I finished a talk on parenting mortification, a woman informed me that what I said had been very valuable for her........in thinking about how to deal with her husband!

Given the examples I had used, and the subject at hand, I was quite surprised.

But should I have been?

Let's be honest that our spouses provide our first mortifications of family life; we deal with them before the kiddos come along. Moreover, these mortifications continue right alongside of parenting mortifications such as sleep deprivation, kid tantrums, physical pain, and so on. I mean no disrespect to the institution or sacrament of marriage (and certainly no offense to my own wonderful husband). Marriage is a blessing with many consolations. But that does not change the fact that our spouses (and we!) are human and can make mistakes or sometimes be just plain annoying and even difficult to live with. I have one friend who tries to explain to her college students that marriage is a lot like living permanently with your college roommate...except there is no summer break. What she means is that things like your spouse putting clothes on the floor instead of in the laundry hamper or interrupting you in the middle of a sentence can become daily annoyances with no end in sight.

With our children we have an important responsibility for their character formation, and hence we have a duty to correct and improve their behavior. Of course spouses may sometimes need a charitable correction and we must be willing to do this, but our relationship with them is of a different sort, characterized more by equality than is the parent-child relationship.

And yet spouses do provide a crucial opportunity for parenting mortification, in part because our willingness to live with and forgive the faults of others, most especially our spouse, is a wonderful model for our children. Marriage, in and of itself (even before or without children) enables us the situation of having to die to ourselves to live for God in particular ways that may be contrary to our personal preferences and opinions. We sacrifice for our spouses sometimes in big ways - choosing locations to live, sacrificing career advances for the good of the relationship, negotiating where to spend family holidays, compromising on a budget, etc. But we also sacrifice for our spouses in little ways - living with the hair in the bathroom sink, the coffee cup left on the counter instead of placed in the dishwasher, the occasional sarcastic comment or complaint.

To get practical here, we often have to make a choice. Can we accept something as a mortification and offer it to God so as to die to self and live more fully for God? Or do we need to address the spouse out of charity and suggest a correction? Sometimes the answer to this choice is obvious. When a spouse is sick or injured and cannot assist in housework or childcare, we are best off accepting it as a mortification, offering it to God, and embracing the death to self such that it encourages in a spirit of generosity and even gratitude for the opportunity. (This may take continued effort and perseverance through the years, and trying again after failure.) As with children, there are many times we are faced with these mortifications that we simply cannot avoid or change. Hence, as with parenting mortification, the best thing we can do for our soul is to embrace the mortification, die to self, and live for God.

Or maybe the spouse has a slightly annoying habit, such as having long pauses before finishing a sentence in the midst of a conversation. For rapid thinkers and quick talkers, dealing with a spouse like this can be truly frustrating. But is the spouse sinning by taking a long time to communicate a thought? No, probably not. And so it's best to accept it as a mortification, striving for patience out of charity. Failure in this terrain is likely as we all have our little pet peeves that bother us, whether or not it's the spouse who is doing them! But the potential for growth is also amazing. With the grace of the vocation of marriage and the willingness to accept each other's faults, the habit of mortifying one's self with regard to a spouse's annoying habits becomes a gift to the relationship and the family as a whole.

At other times, however, mortification may not be the only solution. We may need to communicate honestly about something for the good of the spouse and the marriage. Is the frequent putting away of a spouse's shoes a problem or a mortification? It can be either or both; it may be simply a small nuisance easily offered as a prayer each day and forgotten. Or it may become a huge annoyance and cause for anger and resentment. It may begin as a prayer and end in sinful anger! We may strive to embrace an attitude of helpfulness and generosity, using this as an occasion for mortification, only to find that we have ended in bitterness. Moreover, it certainly is not a bad thing to ask spouses to be responsible for their belongings. The commitment to this little act of love may actually aid the spouse's sanctity more than your resentfully doing the work unnoticed aids your own sanctity.

Or perhaps there may be an instance when a spouse doesn't seem to be listening well, but rather turns the conversation back to an earlier topic that the spouse finds more interesting or important. Even if this doesn't happen frequently, it might be better to address it directly rather than offer it as a mortification, especially if it will detract in the future from maintaining good communication for the marriage relationship.

One thing is certain, though, and that's if you ask a spouse to do something and then criticize the way the spouse does it, you are becoming a mortification for your spouse. Sometimes gentle guidance is needed ("um, the diaper goes on this way; you put it on backwards, no worries, you'll get the hang of it"). But rarely are complaints warranted unless your spouse is actively trying to spite you. So if your spouse makes the bed one morning...and is not quite as good at it as you are...you are better off saying a prayer of thanksgiving for the effort and living with the wrinkles as a mortification (or, if it really bothers you, you could remake it when your spouse leaves the room for the day...). If you criticize and complain about the efforts, you'll be discouraging your spouse from future efforts and mortifying your spouse. And while it's good to accept mortifications, it's not good to choose to mortify others. The goal is to embrace the cross, not to strive to be a cross.

Moreover, if you know your spouse is working on something - for example, not being so critical or smiling more frequently or not looking at a phone during a conversation - it's best to try to appreciate that progress and be grateful for the spouse's efforts, rather than continuing to complain or offer corrections on the matter. When you know your spouse is making a concerted effort in a particular area, it's especially important to accept their failures as a mortification for yourself, offering it in prayer for their perseverance in the struggle.

Someone once told me that you can't get married expecting to change the person you love. But on the other hand, marriage does change people, especially when it is lived out as a vocation that involves sacrifice - the death to self in order to live for God in the marriage.  The demands of marriage provide a crucial opportunity for growth in holiness. If you embrace your spouse as your cross - both your greatest struggle and yet your greatest joy - then you will be changed for the better. So don't miss this opportunity.

The Invisibility of Parenting

(I'm no Einstein, but parenting probably won't make you famous.)

Human beings love to get affirmation for their work. The icing on the cake for a job well done is often the recognition that follows a job well done. There is a real satisfaction in knowing that we have accomplished something for the good of others and that they have truly appreciated it.

In the realm of parenting, however, such affirmation for hard work is often wanting. Within the recesses of the home, the only people who witness the hard work of parenting are those little people who have very little praise and gratitude for the work of parenting. Sure, there are consolations of parenting. But the fact is that much of the effort that goes into parenting is unseen by the world. When parenting goes public - at the store, at Church, etc. - we parents are just as likely to find our parenting judged as we are to find our efforts supported.

It's no wonder then that so many parents enjoy and even rely on their work outside the home to provide life satisfaction. It is wonderful to have an excellent review at work, to receive a promotion, to get credit for great ideas, and of course, to have one of the major incentives for working, namely, a paycheck. That paycheck is the difference between being viewed as a "producer" who actively contributes to society and being viewed as an economic "dependent" confined to the "menial labor" of the home - childcare and domestic chores. At work, there is the respect that comes from other adults. There is teamwork. There is appreciation for overtime. There is a sense of success in the eyes of the world.

At home, there are piles of laundry and ironing. There are dirty dishes in the sink. There are toys on the floor. There are messy faces. There are soiled diapers. There are windows smeared by dirty handprints. There are tantrums. There are constant requests for food. There is homework that requires help. There are meals that must be cooked. And there is no end in sight to these tasks...or anyway, the end is so far away that it is almost unimaginable. Of course, there is often a genuine sense of satisfaction in caring for children and a home; sometimes it feels like parenting is worth all the sacrifices. But this is not always the case, and particularly in the beginning days of parenting, it can be difficult to deal with the lack of appreciation for hard work. The invisibility of our effort with children and home can threaten our happiness and even detract from our sense that we are doing God's will by living out our marriage vocation through caring for children.

At such times we may throw ourselves into our other work, the work we do outside the home. It is easy to put the bulk of our effort into this work where we are appreciated, respected, treated like knowledgeable adults. Back on the homefront, we are tired, having given our best to a different workplace. And we want to come home to rest and relax, not deal with defiant kids and a cluttered house. The invisibility of parenting can make it easy to become lazy and even selfish during the time we spend at home.

Likewise, for those whose primary responsibility is the house and children, there can be a tendency to seek affirmation in other activities, like those of a volunteer nature. People may not notice your great work at home, but they will notice your great work running the PTA bake sale. Your many sacrifices at home will go unnoticed, but people will admire that you are so involved with the parish. Volunteering is a great thing, but it can become an outlet for attention and affirmation rather than service, and this can especially be seen when the responsibilities of volunteering detract from efforts with children and home.

It is regrettable, truly regrettable, that the rearing of children and the service of domestic chores are currently so undervalued. It is a problem in our society that the value of family and home is constantly underrated and undercut by a consumeristic vision. But while this is regrettable and problematic, it is also a wonderful opportunity for parenting mortification. In fact, we might observe that many of our Catholic saints strove for just this chance to be invisible: to go about their work unnoticed and unappreciated by the world. Rather than seeing the lack of affirmation and recognition as one of the worst parts of parenting, we might see it as one of the best aspects of parenting. Not only do we have the opportunity to make numerous sacrifices on a daily basis (sleep deprivation, having our stuff destroyed, being insulted, experiencing physical pain), but we can make these sacrifices without anyone noticing or appreciating them!

Granted, it's not easy. As a mortification, there is a dying to the self that comes with this invisibility of parenting. Parenting is not about us in the sense that outside work can be about us. We won't win any awards for our expert home organization or frequent vacuuming. We won't be featured on a magazine cover for being awake all night with a vomiting child. We won't receive a trophy for the longest sustained toddler-holding during a church service. Since we don't get paid for parenting, we won't get a raise for the stupendous kitchen-cleaning or lunch-packing that we do.

But in the lack of recognition, the mortification that is a dying to self, there is an opportunity to live more fully for God. For when we make these unseen efforts, offering our work to God, and offering work that we know the rest of the world sees as unimportant compared to business, law, medicine or professional sports, we show God that we are willing to do his work simply to please him and not for our own fame or any other natural rewards. We can disappear in the eyes of the world, who sees our education and work experience wasted on such "menial" labor.  The lack of attention and recognition for our work in living our vocation makes it more valuable in God's eyes, not less. Hence if we can mortify ourselves with respect to this invisibility rather than bemoaning it, then we may become more fully an instrument of God. We can decrease, so that he might increase.