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.

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.

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.

The Pressure of Being the Perfect Role Model

(Kids love to imitate their parents)

Despite the many differences among various parenting perspectives and methods, there is almost always one point on which they agree: parents model behavior for their children. Many experts argue that parent modeling is in fact THE MOST IMPORTANT influence on children's behavior and their subsequent behavior as adults. Studies emphasize that lecturing, discussing, and informing children about one's values or beliefs pale in comparison to the importance of demonstrating commitment to these values by living them out in daily life.

This study is just one of many to recognize that children imitate adults. They imitate our use of technology, our eating habits, our ways of dealing with conflict, our punctuality, our cleanliness, our manner of speaking to others, the self-perception of our appearance, our enthusiasm for reading, etc. Beyond these concerns, we Catholics have to think about how we want to model the faith: our commitment to prayer, our embodying corporal and spiritual works of mercy, our participation in Mass, our practice of hospitality, our growth in virtue, our detachment to material possessions, our kindness to others, our concern for the environment, our interaction in larger society, our willingness to stand up for Catholic beliefs, our thirst for the knowledge of the Catechism, our fondness for Scripture, our love for Jesus and for Mary and the communion of saints, etc.

Wow. Just typing the above paragraph was enough to give me anxiety about my own personal failures in regard to many of these issues. Frankly, it's mortifying to think about the many ways I constantly fail as a role model for my children, and by mortifying in this case I actually do mean embarrassing. But of course, this can also become a parenting mortification when we avoid two potential pitfalls related to the pressure of being the perfect role model.

The first mistake is to excuse ourselves from striving to be a good role model. We might come up with a great reason, such as "To thine own self be true" or "I need to take care of myself." These perspectives might foster a consistent attitude of selfishness or may be something that we simply resort to in stressful moments. We may observe to ourselves the difficulty and challenges of our lives as parents and then tell ourselves that it's OK if we watch three hours of television in the evening rather than actively interacting with our family or attending a meeting for an organization to which we belong. After all, we need that downtime after a hard day's work. Or we might say to ourselves that it's fine if we munch on donuts in the morning so long as we provide our kids with a healthier breakfast. It's acceptable for us to yell angrily at our spouse, but our kids better not back-talk to us.

Or, rather than the denial of our own inconsistency of standards, we may tend toward procrastination: we tell ourselves that we'll start being a better role model for our kids when they are a little older and when parenting has gotten "easier." Once they are a little older and our stress lessens (and our night-sleeping increases!), we'll be better able to pray consistently or to open our homes frequently to friends.

Of course, this is a struggle, and it is a mortification, an opportunity to die to the self and live for God. Self-improvement is always a challenge. Self-improvement in order to model to children is definitely a challenge. But it is also a necessity if we care about our children's growth in virtue and holiness. We all have bad days or particularly difficult situations which bring out our worst. But we simply can't purposely shirk our commitment to modeling behavior for our children. If we disregard that responsibility due to our own stresses and worries, they will imitate our behavior by also neglecting commitment to virtue and holiness in difficult times. Instead, we must embrace that responsibility to model behavior as a mortification, and a particularly difficult one at that, for it is one where we will often have to do things that we wouldn't otherwise choose, and because of that, we are almost certain to fail on a daily basis. Not only that, but we will see our own failures imitated by our children in a way that truly must humble us, for example, when we recognize our hurtful words coming from their mouths, or our lack of organization reflected in their own.

The second mistake can come when we do make an effort and yet realize the extent of our failure. It can become possible to despair of our many weaknesses and to be discouraged by our children's behavior, attributing their inconsistencies and problems to our own inadequacies. At times, our disappointment in ourselves may become a downward spiral from which we seek to escape, not by renewed effort but by complete avoidance of the task.

Rather than succumbing to these feelings, however, it is best to take pity on ourselves, to paraphrase St. Francis De Sales, we can say "Poor old heart, you fail so often!" Recognizing our failures needn't cause despair, but ought to lead us to hope. It gives us all the more reason to abandon ourselves to God, to rely more fully on God's guidance in our self-improvement and in our parenting. Acknowledging our failures and need for the grace of God is a mortification, a death to self and opportunity to live for God by embracing hope.

The pressure on parents to be the perfect model can often feel overwhelming. And yet, when we embrace our own constant task of growth in virtue and sanctity rather than shirking it for more immediate pleasures, we can live more fully for God as well as become good models for our children. Granted, we will often fail and witness our failures in the behavior of our children. But this too can become a valuable opportunity for death to self in order to live for God.

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.

Rethinking the Physical Pain of Parenting

"Behind a locked door," pastel by artist Mark A. Hewitt, April 2012

The Easter season is always a good time to reflect on the Catholic Church's teaching regarding the resurrection of the body. The Catechism, in paragraph 997 states the following:

"In death, the separation of the soul from the body, the human body decays and the soul goes to meet God, while awaiting its reunion with its glorified body. God, in his almighty power, will definitively grant incorruptible lives to our bodies, by reuniting them with our souls, through the power of Jesus' Resurrection."

So what exactly is a "glorified body"? Too often, I fear, we may associate a glorified body with a "perfect" body in accord with the current standards of health and beauty here on earth. Maybe we picture perfect symmetry, glossy hair, straight teeth, flawless skin, and just the right weight, with the perfect BMI.

And yet, one crucial point of emphasis in the resurrection narratives of Jesus is the presence of his wounds. Given the scourging at the pillar, the crown of thorns, the carrying of the cross, the crucifixion, and the piercing of the lance, we can surmise that Jesus' body laid to rest in the tomb was in pretty bad physical shape, far from the ideal human figures we label as perfect. But even in his resurrection, Jesus retains the wounds of the cross -- maybe not every mark of the scourging, but at least the nail wounds from the cross, and the piercing in his side. That scriptural detail should challenge our conventional notion of the "perfect body."

The presence of Jesus' wounds in his resurrected body indicates perhaps that the beauty of the body comes from sacrifice made in the service of God. The service of God, lived out in a particular vocation, can certainly take a toll on the body. For example, anthropologist Dr. Susan Sheridan has been working to analyze the skeletons of 5th and 6th century Byzantine monks in Jerusalem. In an article in Notre Dame Magazine, Sheridan observes: “When we pulled the bones out we found the legs were really pathological.” In other words, biomechanical analysis indicated that the monks had knelt a lot; bones rubbed against bones at the knee, and the big toes fused as a response to repetitive stress. In other words, the monks' constant prayer left actual physical marks on their skeletons, marks that are still evident on their bones a millennium and a half later. If this is the condition of their bodies, what about their souls? For prayer in the service of God influences not just the body, but the soul as well.

These monks' skeletons can provide useful reflection for us parents who believe that the work we do as parents not only marks our bodies, but our souls as well. A biomechanical analysis of the skeletons of those who spent much time caring for children would probably show the signs of parenting, and particularly the physical pain of parenting. Perhaps one hip would be slightly lower than the other from constantly holding a babe. Or perhaps the spinal column would be compressed. There are also pains of parenting that wouldn't remain on our skeletons. Many of these caught me off guard when I became a parent. No one warned me about how much it hurts when a toddler throws back his head, connecting his skull with your nose. No one mentioned the pain of a kiddo using your hair as a rappelling aid. No one informed me that parenting would give me scratches and even bruises caused by my children. Nor did they emphasize how parenting can be bad for the back, especially with young children.

But like the 5th and 6th century Byzantine monks, these are physical pains of our vocation, lived out in service to God. In some sense, they are the wounds of Christ, which we willingly embrace in the same manner that he embraced his passion and death. The body is for loving, and sometimes loving others - such as our children - will leave marks on our body. But the physical pain of parenting is an opportunity for parenting mortification, an invitation to die to self and live for God. The glorified body is not the perfect body idolized by our society. The wounds on Christ's body are not imperfections, problems that stand in the way of beauty and ought to be healed. 

Many view the pains and physical imperfections that come along with parenting in a negative light. Parents who love and serve God on earth through their parenting may not have the "perfect" bodies according to our current conventional standards. Those bodies may not be thin or attractive. They may not be healthy or free of pain. They may not be strong or sturdy. Rather, those who love and serve God on earth will likely already suffer the physical consequences of this service.

Of course, there is something praiseworthy in trying to preserve our health so that we can love and serve God. We should try to take care of our bodies and aim for health in order to do God's will, particularly so that we can be good parents to our children. But physical health and the goal of long life for its own sake cannot be seen as ends in themselves. And in fact, even injury and illness are wonderful opportunities to love and serve God by offering that pain to God, uniting it with Christ's passion for the good of others in the world. Injury and illness may disfigure and weaken our bodies, but they can also increase the beauty of our souls, uniting us with the passion of Christ so as to share in his resurrection. 

The sacrifices of parenting indicate the continuity of our life on earth and in heaven, and hence those physical pains undertaken for God's work are rightly associated with the glorification of our bodies. If we are offering our daily work to God - whether or parenting or praying or teaching or cleaning or even suffering - then the physical blemishes we incur as a result bring us closer to perfection, not imperfection. They increase the beauty of our souls and help us move closer to that final glorified body.

So the next time you get kicked in the shin, scratched on the arm or hit in the head by a flying shoe, just remember that the physical pain of parenting is an opportunity to die to self and live for God...and that has eternal rewards.