Ideas for Raising Catholic Kids Who Become Catholic Adults

Parenting mortification is not so much about parenting as about mortification. In other words, it's not really about how to raise kids, but about how to address the challenges of parenting in a positive way that helps parents to become happier and holier. That said, this post will step aside from the usual content and address parenting more directly. The ideas that follow come from my husband's and my observations of Catholic parents who have raised Catholic kids who became Catholic adults. They are ideas we are trying to implement as best we can.

1. Make Catholicism fun!
Catholicism gives us so many opportunities to celebrate. So then, celebrate! Celebrate big feasts (Christmas and Easter) in big ways, with special clothes, special foods, special activities, etc. Celebrate the kids' baptism anniversaries, name days, and sacraments. Observe solemnities not only with Mass, but with cake after dinner! Remember particular patron saints on their feast days. Live the liturgical year with sacramentals, like the Advent wreath. Make Sundays feel different than weekdays - a day of rest, family time, family Rosary in your pajamas, whatever it takes to make it clear that Sunday is not just another day, but rather is the best day of the week. Catholicism is a faith imbued with the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and that should shine through the practice of Catholicism in the family.

2. Teach kids the value of suffering and mortification.
Suffering and mortification are a part of life. Catholicism teaches us that we can use suffering and mortification  for supernatural ends. While of course we want to take away suffering from our children, sometimes we can't. But we can help them cope with pain supernaturally by teaching them to offer up their discomfort or pain or disappointments as prayers for those in need. Not only is it a beautiful prayer when a child does this, but it is a wonderful formation that will allow them to deal positively with pain they will encounter later in life. Just as we strive not to waste these opportunities to die to self and live for God, so kids can do the same if we share with them this important part of our faith.

3. Emphasize God's mercy for sin and failure.
God always forgives and always wants the best for us. His mercy is abundant and he will never refuse our humble repentance. From a young age kids should know this...they can always be forgiven by God, no matter the offense. Instead of allowing sin to become a habit or vice, encourage them to see their sin as an opportunity for grace. They may feel bad or embarrassed about something they've done, and God should stand in their minds not as a ruthless judge, but as a merciful parent. Communicate that God's mercy is a consolation for them and invitation to try again. The only real failure is giving up the struggle. Continuing to fight against sin, however, makes us strong by strengthening virtue. Explain how to do an examination of conscience and teach your children an Act of Contrition at an early age. Help them to frequent the sacrament of penance as often as they'd like.

4. Educate and form children in the faith.
Kids need to know the faith. Parents do too. Sometimes we don't know the answers to their questions about the faith, and it's OK to admit that...but it's not OK to discredit or undermine the Church or its teachings because of our own ignorance. Instead, turn to the Catechism to look up answers or read about topics that your kids ask you about. The catechesis of your children is primarily your job. Kids today have plenty of formation in secular culture, from Disney princesses to Star Wars, but their primary narrative of life needs to be their faith, so educate them about the faith and form them in it with Bible stories, explanations of the Mass, and sacramentals such as crucifixes and holy water.

5. Value children's sanctity and salvation above worldly success, pleasure, and physical beauty.
There are many goals that we have for our children. Let no goal take the place of their final goal, sanctity that invites their salvation and secures their place in heaven. Too often we parents can get carried away with extra-curricular activities like swimming or piano. Parents sometimes exact too much pressure on their children when it comes to their academic success. Parents can get caught up in their children's appearance. And of course, parents want their children to enjoy life and experience fun times. The goals themselves do not have to be problematic, but rather can lead to the glory of God. Yet at the same time, any of these can lead us to spend too much time, money, and energy on things that are truly worldly preoccupations that will all pass away. Parents make all kinds of sacrifices for their young children's athletic careers - money and time spent on gymnastics lessons, for example. And yet very few adults are still doing handsprings; the returns on investing in children's sanctity, in contrast, are infinite. Often times, prioritizing children's sanctity and salvation above all else can become a mortification. For example, one dad realized as his son hit puberty that their summer family vacation to the Jersey Shore was becoming an occasion of sin (or at least struggle) for the son, who couldn't help but gawk at the girls on the beach. So the next year, the family vacation consisted of hiking in the Poconos. It was a sacrifice to forego the beach, but it was a sacrifice the parents embraced out of concern for their son's sanctity.

6. Respect their freedom.
Catholicism involves certain obligations, such as Sunday Mass attendance. Children are expected to observe those obligations as they do any other household rules. But beyond that, parents have to be very careful about trying to force the faith on kids, particularly as they grow older. Younger kids often love to imitate parents and to join in some prayer practices, but as children age they may assert their independence by refusing to do these things. That is fine. Respecting their choice leaves the door open for their return, whereas fighting against it can often cause a battle and make a negative association. So also, when it comes to preferences of food or politics or activities, tolerate or even encourage their interests, so long as they aren't committing sin in them. One of the most important realizations of parents is that their kids are not just like them. Accepting kids' personalities, interests, and preferences shows the parents' respect for their individuality.

7. Don't criticize the Church. Be proud to be Catholic.
If a wife constantly criticizes her husband, the kids pick up on that and begin to imitate it, finding their own critiques of his messiness or laziness or other faults. So also, if a dad regularly complains of his mother, his own children will pick up on this and imitate his lack of respect and reverence for Grandma. As adults, we are often acutely aware of the sins and failings of some of the members of our mystical body the Church. At times, we may be disappointed with the leadership in the Church, whether at a local, regional, national, or international level. And yet, as Catholics we describe our Church as "holy" and we truly see it as holy, even if the members of the Church sin. But just as a wife should not criticize her husband to her kids, nor a dad criticize his mother to his kids, so also we parents should not criticize our mother the Church to our kids. If anything, there will be a time to explain how members of the Church sin, but yet the Church remains holy because of Christ. But if we take to criticizing, undermining, discrediting, or disagreeing with Church teachings in front of our kids, we can expect them to pick up on that and end up discrediting the Church as a whole. So often we hear the expression "proud to be an American," and yet our government does not have a spotless record. Neither does the Church, it's true, but the Church is full of sinners trying to become saints through the grace of God. We shouldn't have to hide our Catholicism, nor teach our kids to hide their faith. Rather we want them to own it, to defend it, and to explain it as best they can.

8. Socialize with other Catholic families; keep tabs on your kids' friendships.
One of the most important choices made by children concerns their friends. So then, give them the friends that you want them to have. At least, give them the opportunity to meet children of like-minded Catholic parents, parents whose primary goal for their kids is for them to become saints. They will probably make other (non-Catholic) friends as well, and this is fine, but needs care and observation. One big task of parents may be practicing hospitality, and giving kids a safe, comfortable place to spend time with their friends. Let your house be the house where kids want to gather. Let your children see that people and relationships are more important than possessions and "success."

9. Practice the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.
Don't let a day go by when your children are young without encouraging them to remember people who are in need. It may be hard when children are young to find some way of involving them in these practices, but there are small ways that can become important reminders, for example, a weekly donation to the food pantry at the local parish can be a regular and concrete action expressing concern for the poor and hungry. Taking a meal to a family mourning the loss of a loved one can ingrain the importance of concern for those in need of comfort. And when these actions aren't possible, it's always valuable to remember the needy in prayer.

10. Don't give the devil access to your home through media.
If the devil knocked on the door, would you let him in? No, right? So don't let him sneak in through the airwaves. The television, Internet, movies, music, video games, and sometimes books or friends can form children in ways that we don't want, and they can be invitations to sin. The "normal" in media today used to be objectionable, and it is becoming increasingly sexualized in particular. It may help to look at what's happening on a television screen (or computer screen or cell phone screen) and think to yourself how you would react if you opened a door to your house and saw the action on the screen in that room. Protect your children's modesty and purity. Have rules governing media usage, monitor your children's online activities, and offer alternative activities (hiking, baking, card games, board games, etc.).

11. Model, model, model.
Basically every parenting book advocating any method of child-rearing will note that the most important influence on a child is the model provided by their parents. When it comes to living Catholicism, the parents are the most important models for their children. So parents should model joy in living the faith and consistency in prayer; kids should see their parents pray and have a sense of their parents' prayer schedule. At Mass, kids should see their parents actively participating in the Mass...and that means...praying! Moreover, the example of the parent is also important in many of the above items numbered above. Parents model enthusiasm for and enjoyment of the faith. Parents model dealing with suffering well. Parents model repentance and use of the sacrament of penance. Parents model formation and education in the faith and a desire to explore it. Parents prioritize their sanctity and salvation over worldly values. Parents model support of the Church. Parents model the value of good Catholic friendship. Parents model corporal and spiritual works of mercy. Parents model discipline in regard to media and a desire to maintain purity. Of course, we all fall short at times, so also provide your children with other models, such as the saints.

12. Pray, pray, pray for them!
Parents who believe that prayer makes a difference will pray for their kids, not as an afterthought, but as an integral part of their parenting.

Anything I'm missing?

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.

Insults of an Enemy...From the Lips of Your Child

Babies are so cute, aren't they? So lovable and huggable...so cuddly and warm. They depend on you and they seem to know it and love you for it. They smile in appreciation when they're happy or throw little screaming baby tantrums when they don't get what they want.

Then they start to talk.

I'll never forget the first time my daughter yelled at me "I hate you! I just want you to die!" and then slammed her bedroom door in my face. Unfortunately, it was not the last time her harsh words would break my heart.

As children get older, the insults become more specific and often more hurtful. Unless you're perfect (and you probably aren't), they pick up on your failings and like to bring them to your attention frequently. Sometimes it's like they don't even realize that you are an actual person, who has actual feelings that can actually be hurt. Other times it's like they totally realize that you are an actual person and their only satisfaction in life is to hurt your feelings.

And it's so wrong. You know that. You know that they shouldn't be so disrespectful. "Honor your father and mother," after all, is one of the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:12). Besides that, you gave them life. You have provided for all their needs. You have made numerous sacrifices for them. And this is what you get? It makes sense that you are sad, angry, disappointed.

But, on the other hand, what a great opportunity for parenting mortification! Many great saints underwent insults of this kind and worse; many relished the humiliation! And let's be honest, if you generally move about in polite, friendly, respectful adult company, you're highly unlikely to get this kind of face-to-face disparagement from anyone else. You certainly wouldn't seek out such censure! So, how to let this become an opportunity to die to self and live for God?

First, recollect yourself. Take a moment to calm down and think before you respond. Acknowledge mentally that your child is wrong to address you in this way. The child is being disrespectful and should not be talking to you in this way.

Secondly, admit to yourself that you have done something at some point in your life that deserves harsh words. Perhaps you have spoken in a similarly disrespectful way to your parents at some point, or maybe you have been sarcastic with your spouse in a hurtful manner. Maybe there are larger sins that somehow escaped the notice and criticism of others. Spiritually embrace the harsh words, accepting them as a penance; you deserve worse than this for the sins of all your life. Offer these insults of an enemy from the lips of your child as a prayer. Thank God that you've been given this opportunity to grow in holiness.

Third, do NOT engage your child in the hurtful-word-game. The satisfaction of playing that game well is a fleeting pleasure. And it sets a bad example. Play a different game. The "end-it-kindly-game." I'm a competitive person, so it really does help me to think of it as a game, where I'm competing to be the calmest, most mature, kindest, humblest competitor who can take any abuse and STILL respond kindly. Think of Jesus' humiliation during his passion! Think of the saints who have gone through this! You can do it too!

So, fourth, END IT. Try, "I'm happy to talk to you if you'd like to speak respectfully. Until you're ready for that, feel free to _______ (e.g. read in your bedroom, play in the playroom)." Another good line, borrowed from Love and Logic, is simply "I love you too much to argue." I've found that this sentence as a response to whatever comes next, and what comes after that, and after that, and after that, and after that, will finally end a conversation. If you succeed at patience and kindness, you'll also be a great model for your children.

Fifth, when your child has calmed down (and it might take awhile!), share your hurt feelings without beginning a fight and talk about how to prevent arguments like this in the future. Compliment the child on expressing his feelings verbally, but encourage him to work on doing it in a calmer, kinder, empathetic manner.

Lastly, take a moment to reflect on your child's behavior and the ways that you or your spouse might be modeling this kind of problematic communication by your conversations with each other. If you recognize a bit of yourself in your child's tirades, this is an important step in the growth process. You may need to work on this. And if you find yourself failing to be respectful to your spouse or your kids in your communications with them, don't despair. Make amends clearly and in front of your kids; apologize and acknowledge that you are making an effort and that it takes time. The humility required for this step can be its own mortification.

The insults of a child can be one of the most frustrating experiences of parenthood. Don't let those insults become causes for your own sin, but rather, let them become contributions toward your sanctity.

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.

Prayer that Makes it Work: Aspirations

"Mommy!"

"What?"

"Mommy!"

"What?"

"Mommy!"

"What?"

"Mommy!"

"What?"

Not so long ago, one of my children went through a phase that involved wanting constant reassurance of my presence. The dialogue above was common, even when I was clearly in sight, e.g. sitting directly in front of her while driving the van. At times I made it into a little competition for myself to see if I could outlast her, responding to the point that she finally gave up. At other times I angrily erupted, "IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO ASK ME OR TELL ME COULD YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING 'MOMMY!'!!!!"

Though this dialogue isn't as common now as it once was, I find that my kids still like to know where I am and what I'm doing when we're at home together. On one occasion when I was "lost" in the house (downstairs, changing a load of laundry), I found a daughter frantically searching for me and crying. In my experience, my kids can lose sight of me for awhile and play happily, but at some point they'll want to check in with me and make sure I'm still there.

So also, the Christian life involves always keeping God in sight, remembering that God is there throughout the day, regardless of what you're doing. For parenting mortification, this is particularly important. If we want to die to self and live for God, it will take a lot of help and reminders of the presence of God. One traditional method of keeping in touch with God is prayers of aspiration. The root of that word "aspiration" means breathing, and, in fact, prayers of aspiration should be kind of like breathing - constant and almost unnoticed, but certainly not insignificant.

St. Francis deSales devotes Chapter 13 of Part 2 of Introduction to the Devout Life to this topic. DeSales notes that this kind of prayer is not a difficult practice: "it may be interwoven with all our duties and occupations, without hindering any." And perhaps this is why aspirations are so key for parenting mortification. Our prayer opportunities before having children may have been more diverse; it was easier to make it to an hour of Eucharistic adoration or pray the complete Divine Office. Maybe extended lectio divina meditation or long Rosary walks were favorites. With the presence of kids, however, fitting in these spiritual practices in a typical day can be much more challenging. But aspirations, on the other hand, are just as easy to do with kids as without, with a packed schedule or with a more relaxed schedule. Praying aspirations does not require going anywhere, sitting still, looking at a book, or holding prayer beads. This prayer can be done anytime (yes, including the middle of the night) and any place (park and office both included!).

Aspirations are not unlike the dialogue that began this post. Again, deSales writes "...those who love God cannot cease thinking of Him, living for Him, longing after Him, speaking of Him." Like little children who want constant reassurance of their parents, we use aspirations to stay in constant touch with God. Such prayers may be quite short and arise spontaneously in distress: "Please, God!" or "Help me be patient!" At other times, these prayers may express something more particular: "Jesus, I trust in you!" is a good one for times of anxiety. Sometimes these prayers may be liturgically inspired: "Come, Lord Jesus" (Advent) or "Alleluia!" (Easter) or "Oh, dear Jesus, make my heart like yours!" (month of June). If we have a particular intention, our aspirations may focus on that specific prayer, with constant petitions throughout the day.

Bearing cheerfully with the struggles of parenting works best when we realize that we're not in it alone - that we have the constant support of God. The work we do - in the home with children, as well as our professional work - is not simply about us but has significance beyond the natural level. Aspirations enable us to be reminded of that throughout our day. DeSales states that this prayer "can supply all other deficiencies, but there is hardly any means of making up where this is lacking. Without it no one can lead a true contemplative life, and the active life will be imperfect where it is omitted: without it rest is but indolence, labour but weariness..."

So if you feel like your prayer life has taken a hit since you became a parent, aspirations might be a good way to reinvigorate it. They don't take any extra set-aside time. You can say them when you get out of the shower, walk down the stairs, get the mail, change a diaper, start your car, pour your coffee, tie your shoe, tie your kid's shoe... and this constant contact with God can be a source of help or comfort when you encounter the less pleasant aspects of parenting.

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.

Detachment from Material Possessions or When Kids Destroy Your Stuff

One of the wonderful reminders given to us by Pope Francis is the need for Christians to be detached from their material possessions. It's hard to avoid hearing that message in the gospels, anyway, but in our generally affluent country, the message is not usually a popular one. "Struggle" is one way to describe it for those of us who live in a situation of comfort; being detached from material possessions takes constant vigilance and effort. And yet, the struggle is worth the constant vigilance it requires because of the primacy that spiritual goods should take in our lives.

And here is one of the great benefits of parenting mortification: kids constantly damage, ruin, and destroy stuff. Before I had children, I had much less opportunity to mortify myself in terms of material possessions. My first major purchase - like many young adults - was a car: a brand-new, shiny silver Toyota Corolla. I was determined to take good care of my car, hoping that I could pay it off while I was working for a couple of years and have it in great condition when I began graduate school. Take care of it I did. I washed and vacuumed it weekly. Yes, you read that correctly, WEEKLY. No fooling around here. Once when I was giving a ride to a colleague of mine who had several young children he asked, "What, did you buy this car yesterday?" And I remember I was so proud to have evoked such a question, even as he observed that his van was never so clean.

Now, fast forward a decade and add 140,000 miles to the car. Little did I know that the Corolla would become a family car, and then the car my husband would use to commute to work. The paint has been scratched in a few places; there's even some rust showing on the body. The floor mats have dirt ground into them. Two hubcaps are missing. There are car seats in the back, along with the requisite crumbs, as well as some upholstery stains from milkshake spills. I'd like to take better care of it, but the fact is, it's just  not a priority, and it will never be in the condition it was before I had kids. And I think I'm better for it.

There's always a bit of tension between being a good steward who takes care of possessions so as to make them last longer and then the inverse where the possessions become idols and taking care of them is an act of idolatry rather than stewardship.

Living with young children highlights this tension in life. We want to communicate to them the need to take care of possessions as a way of living stewardship and simplicity; we don't want them to think of possessions as disposable and easily replaceable. At the same time, however, we want to communicate that in the grand scheme of things, possessions just aren't that important, and we ought to be detached from them, such that we can live without them and still be happy and holy. Numerous involuntary opportunities to work on detachment from possessions occurs when parenting young children.

Christmas has been a good time for me to reflect on this, as I've watched my childhood ornaments be destroyed daily by my children. Most recently, it was this darling angel, dutifully labeled by my mom with my initial and the date '84. The halo has gone missing, the wings are broken off, the bell came apart and finally the angel came off the bell altogether. So in other words, the ornament was carefully preserved for nearly thirty years only to be ruined by my children in a remarkably short amount of time.

This, of course, is a relatively minor example. Although I do find it a bit sad, and I am a tad sentimental about it, I can't say I was really all that attached to the ornament. The tougher mortification for me is living the daily battle against crayon marks on the wall, carvings in the wooden furniture, scribbling on books, mud on the carpet, missing toy pieces, scratched up CDs, and, well, you get the picture. Again, we want to teach our kids to take care of things, but we don't want them to think we take care of things because that's an end in itself.

Here are a few practical ideas for turning kids destroying your stuff into a spiritual asset - a mortification - or death to self so as to live more fully in Christ. First, fight the anger. It totally makes sense to be upset when you see your child break something, whether purposely or accidentally. Take a deep breath. Say to yourself silently, "I wasn't going to take that with me when I died, anyway." If you need to repeat it a few times, do.

Secondly, communicate to your child: "I'm very angry with you for drawing on my book because I'm trying to take good care of that book so I can enjoy reading it. It's hard to read with pen marks all over it."

Third, put the message into action by proposing that your child find some way to "pay" for the damage they've done. "How would you like to pay me for that?" You might suggest that they lend you a toy for a few days, or, if they happen to have money, you can ask for payment. If they've done something like drawing with crayon on the wall, they may be able to perform the clean-up themselves.

Fourth, try to live with your damaged possession rather than immediately replacing it. When my son pulled on my gold chain necklace (that my husband had just had repaired as a birthday gift for me) and broke it, I decided not to get it repaired again, nor to replace it. If it's something that you can live without for awhile, or live with in a damaged condition, accept this as a mortification that fosters your detachment from material possessions. Every time that you go to use that possession, you can repeat your initial reaction: "I wasn't going to take that with me when I died, anyway."

Fifth, teach your kids to do the same. My daughter approached me with a scratched DVD that wouldn't play and asked me if I could buy a new one because they wanted to watch that particular movie. "How did it get scratched? Did someone leave it on the basement floor out of its case?" Of course, the answer was yes. So I apologized and said that I'm not going to replace things just because the kids haven't taken care of them.

Sixth, fight against the desire to live in a perfect, beautiful environment. Now is not the time for that; heaven is the time for that. Of course, try to buy things that can withstand children's use; invest in cleaning products that will allow you to restore damage. But make your house a home, a place of hospitality; don't think of it as a museum. You may want it to be clean and nice, well organized and aesthetically pleasing. I find that most of the time it's impossible to meet my standard for what I'd like the house to look like, and this too is a good mortification, a good reminder that life's not all about me and what I want. Accepting constant imperfections - the smudge on the couch, the toy on the floor, the broken drawer on the bathroom vanity - especially those caused by the little ones who live with us can truly aid us in being detached from material possessions. Let this challenge of parenting bring you closer to God.

Lastly, when it comes to taking care of possessions, living with damaged possessions, and giving away possessions, be a model for your child of detachment. When your daughter breaks the chandelier (why she was sitting on the table anyway, who knows...), don't be afraid to let her know that even though you are upset, she is way more important to you than a chandelier. And you can live with the broken chandelier because you love her and know that she lasts forever and the chandelier won't. So also, don't stand in the way of your kids' detachment from material possessions.... When your child decides to give away that stuffed puppy doggy she got for her first birthday from her aunt that she's taken everywhere over the last five years... let her. She wouldn't have taken it to heaven anyway.