family

Bren Turns 16

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Our first child turns 16 today. My Facebook statement sums up my sentiments nicely: “Hard to believe my eldest son Brendan turns 16 today. He is smart, responsible, strong, gentle, persistent, respectful, and faithful — and I love him.” But don’t take my word for the type of young man he is (outstanding in many ways) or what motivates him (faith, food, personal goals, and a particular brand of ginger soda). Consider how he’s spending this special occasion:

  • The movie Cinderella Man and pie last night, and the actual Braddock-Baer fight from 1935 on YouTube this morning.
  • Breakfast burritos this morning, football this afternoon, stuffed pasta shells this evening, chocolate bundt cake for dessert — all here at home, with family.
  • No driver’s license until later this winter or early this spring — he’s got school, wrestling, Confirmation classes, and taxidermy work to earn money for a pilgrimage to Rome next summer.
  • On his birthday list: several Catholic books; the movies Big Jake, Captain America and Here Comes the Boom; the book Cinderella Man, and a “Vires et Honestas” (Strength and Honor) t-shirt from the Art of Manliness website.
  • Theology class tonight with his friends.
He opened his gifts this morning: a secondhand army dufflebag containing the following:
  • two 12-packs of Vernors, plus a book called The Vernor’s Story and a vintage Vernors recipe guide from the 1960s;
  • a handful of 100 Grand candy bars;
  • a jar each of smoked black pepper and hot dill pickles;
  • Fr. Richard Heilman’s books Church Militant Field Manual: Special Forces Training for the Life in Christ, Fortes in Fide: Church Militant Prayer Book, and Strength and Alliance: Church Militant Field Journal;
  • The Naval Academy Candidate Book: How to Prepare, How to Get In, How to Survive;
  • Three movies: Here Comes the Boom and the two recent Sherlock Holmes flicks;
  • and a set of keys to all three vehicles and the house on a Captain America key ring.
Some of it he asked for, all of it he’ll enjoy — and sweet 16 in this case is a relaxing day at home. He’s growing into a fine young man, and we’re proud of him. Much love to you on your birthday, son!

It’s In the Small Things

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”  — St. Augustine of Hippo

It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged.

I’ve been thinking for a couple of weeks now that I’m neglecting this site. I’ve been thinking that I ought to just provide quick updates and anecdotes about the kids. That’s what my readership (largely friends and family) tend to read and comment on anyway. But I also have in my head these much grander posts I’d like to write, but can’t find the time for — and I second-guess myself about the smaller updates and think, “Why spend valuable writing time on the day-to-day, when you have bigger fish to fry?”

As a result of this back-and-forth, I’ve written nothing.

Last night, a dear friend, Fr. Tyler from Prairie Father, visited from South Dakota. As usual, we talked long and late about everything under the sun — most amusing were his interrogation of Trevor on the topic of Greek mythology, which Trevor knows primarily from Percy Jackson and not from the myths themselves, and his discussion with Gabe about the nature of reality and the unintended consequences of Copernicus’s work and the scientific method.

Later, we began to talk more practically about how we, as Catholic adults, can live our faith on a daily basis and act as missionaries wherever we happen to be. I admitted a tendency to downplay the little ways in which I can evangelize in favor of planned grand gestures in the future: a book I’d like to write, or a pilgrimage or retreat I’d like to take with friends or family. Several times during the discussion, Fr. Tyler repeated, “It’s in the details. It’s in the little things.”

“I know you’re right,” I replied at one point, “but that’s not how I’m living on a day-to-day basis.”

I’ve said before that I believe men want to be a part of something great and glorious — but although I had a great marriage and glorious family, I’m constantly, restlessly searching for that great and glorious thing — that other life — I should be leading.

It’s in the small things.

I thought about his words throughout a restless night and morning — then checked my personal email and found a new, anonymous comment on this blog post. It’s the most popular post on my little site, and I joke about it sometimes, because my web stats tell me that post, in particular, is big in Russia.

Yeah, I’m read internationally. Deal with it.

The point is, not only am I looking for the next big thing, but I downplay, and even mock, the little things I do well. Today an anonymous reader (Fr. Tyler, was that you?) reiterated the message of last night: It’s in the small things.

* * * * *

Blogger’s Postscript: Apparently I’ve written this post before. How soon we forget…

All Sugared Up, or Birthday Blitz Wrap-Up

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

 A friend said the other day that it seems like we have a birthday a week in our family during the summer. That’s not quite true, but this year it has felt that way: the day before Jodi’s fiesta was Trevor’s ninth birthday, which included presents and cake. My bride’s party was a few weeks ahead of her actual birthday, and featured a wide range of delicious foods including not one, but two cakes — bringing the total that weekend to three.

Something similar happened last weekend: Jodi’s real, true birthday was Saturday, and Emma and I conspired on a pineapple upside-down cake (which was not from a mix and oh-so-delicious). But since Emma doesn’t like pineapple, she asked that we pick up a vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting at the store so she could bake a second cake she would enjoy. Unbeknownst to me, she had also made some fondant at a friend’s house some days before and was anxious to try her hand at covering a cake.

Experiment with fondant

Whether because the fondant wasn’t completely fresh, the recipe, or something else, the fondant wouldn’t hold together at any thickness less than about a quarter inch — and Emma frosted the cake beneath the thick blanket, creating a tasty vanilla cake covered in insanely sweet Playdough. (The boys mocked Emma for it until Jodi and I reminded them how much she bakes for us; in the end, even she agreed it was too much.)

Gabe at 2:23 p.m. on his birthday
Sunday, then, was Gabe’s 13th birthday: Waffles and bacon and a new Facebook account in the morning, but (he insisted) no presents until 2:23 p.m., the minute he was born — then antiquing (he bought a ginormous old pop bottle we’d never seen before), lasagna and garlic bread, altar server at 6 p.m. Mass, and (you guessed it) cake! More specifically, brownies — but still, three cakes in a weekend once again. We played Phase 10, and the kids were more than a little wound up; I on the other hand, crashed quickly and became surly. Lily kept climbing up to (and nearly onto) the table to grab people’s cards. It was sheer, sugared chaos — and all in all, a good day.
We haven’t had a birthday party for Trevor, due to Jodi’s party, nor for Gabe, due to her actual birthday — so we’ll have at least two more small celebrations before the summer’s out. Just two cakes to go!

Lily Speaks Up

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment
Our daughters on Saturday morning…

I’m told that parents are not supposed to compare their children to each other, but how can you not? What we know best about parenting we know from experience, so when some new ailments manifests itself, or child number four does something as yet unseen or unexpected, you noticed.

For example: our number five, Lily, has begun to speak more slowly than her older siblings. We attribute this primarily to the fact that her siblings do the talking for her, anticipating her needs and filling in the blanks – she need only whine, whimper, grunt, or shriek, and her desires are addressed. Lately, however, she is becoming more verbal, showing her strengths, her weaknesses … and a budding sense of humor.

She loves her family, and has said Momma or Mommy for a long time now, and Dada or Daddy only slightly later. Emma came easy, and her hero worship from her eldest brother led to his name being next in her vocabulary: Nennen at first; now Denden.

Among her next words were nanee (banana), and gog and guck (for our Schnauzer Puck). She was a little slower with her other brothers, but that’s fair: they’ve been a little slower with her, as well. Trevor, as she warmed to him was Ruh-ruh, then Reh-Ruh, and now Chreh-ruh.

She then said all of these names for weeks, but we couldn’t get her to say Gabe or Gabey. We couldn’t trick her, couldn’t coerce her – nothing worked; she just looked at him and held her tongue. Then last week she began to call him Abba – which given his priestly inclinations, seemed almost mystical (it’s Hebrew for “father”). That was cool, but only lasted for a couple of days before it devolved (we thought) into Abluh or Uh-bluh. (Gabe quickly tired of everyone asked Lily who he was, or saying, “Lily … where’s Uh-bluh?”)

It seemed like a step backward, until once a couple days ago, when Lily saw Gabe’s photo and said, “Ay-bluh.” You could almost hear Gabriel in her syllables – she knows what she wants to say, but can’t quite articulate it yet.

She is trying out other words, as well, that show up in humorous (and sometimes trying) ways. For example, when we tell her not to do something (or when she is about to do something she knows she shouldn’t), she looks at Jodi or me and says, “no, no, NO!” in a tone that suggests nag, nag, NAG! And one night when she was being clingy and fussy, I made the mistake of steering her away from Jodi by stepping between them, putting my arm around my bride, and saying, “MY mommy!”

I thought it was funny in the moment – but a day or so later, I returned home from work, walked into the kitchen, and kissed my wife, only to see Lily march over, grab her pant leg, and say, “MY MOMMY!” Now she walks around the house claiming everything in her reach: “My mommy, my Denden, mine, mine, MINE.”

Nice going, Dad.

Finally, a couple nights ago we’re seated at the table eating supper, and everyone’s chattering away. It’s hard to listen to five kids at once, and Lily is repeating the same monosyllable over and over, so I’ve tuned her out temporarily.

Finally I focused in, and see that she’s leaning across the table, looking insistently at me as she speaks.

What did she say?

“Jehm. Jehm. Jehm! JEHM!”

“Wait a minute!” I say, and the table quiets. “Lily, who am I?”

She grins. “Jehm.”

“Who?”

“Jehm.”

Jodi and the kids are giggling. “Who?” I ask again.

“Jehm!”

“Lily, who am I really?” I say, mock sternly.

She grins until it wrinkles her nose. “Daddy!” she says.

She loves this game now. She won’t call Jodi anything except Momma or Mommy – though she knows her name, too; ask her to give Jodi a hug and see.

I know, I know – it’s not the first time a child has done something precious (or precocious) while taste-testing words. But for us, it could be the last. Jehm is enjoying it, and so is Daddy.

Fiesta for Jodi

/ J. Thorp / 3 Comments
My bride, looking pleased;
she also got chocolate…

Those of you who know my bride know she spends herself for others. She generally does not express anger, disapproval, discomfort, or exhaustion. She does her level best to anticipate the needs of others and to avoid being the cause of conflict. So foreign is her approach to me that the majority of the tensions between the two of us are the result of me projecting my own tendencies and motives onto her actions in a misguided attempt to understand her. I look at her and assume she’s like me – and apparently, I don’t always get along with me or like the way I think.

Two other things about Jodi:

  • Since she was a little girl, she has tried not to be a burden to others. As a result, once she asked her parents not to spend money on Christmas presents for her. Also, she recalls a death in the family when she was young, in which she was asked to be strong for her grieving relatives. She only rarely cried from that day forward, and her stoicism and general toughness (plus her origins on the plains of South Dakota) earned her the nickname Injun Jo from an elderly (and un-PC) friend of the family.
  • She is conservative in dress, but loves a colorful home. Our bedding gets more colorful year by year, our kitchen features colorful artwork, and she likes fun, brightly colored dishes and cookware.
She’s seeing a pattern!

When we first married, I worked in the housewares department of Younkers department store in Sioux Falls, and Jodi would visit the department to browse.  Seventeen years ago she began looking at Fiestaware dishes, drawn to them by the soft, bright colors: tangerine, lemongrass, peacock, sunflower, flamingo, and turquoise. Since she rarely buys anything for herself (and when she does, it’s on the cheap), we’ve used discount, cream-colored stoneware dishes for years now. Periodically, however, she would talk about how much fun it would be to have a mismatched set of Fiesta dishes – all different colors – to brighten up the kitchen and mealtime.

Jodi will turn an unmentionable age next weekend, so after 17 years of browsing and daydreaming, I decided it was time to act. A couple weekends ago, I planned a party for her. I invited family from Minnesota, Michigan, and South Dakota, and some friends from the area. It was a not-quite-surprise party – in order to pick and hold a date on our busy calendar, I had to let her know something was up, so I told her I was having some friends over for her birthday, and that was the weekend that worked best. I told her the kids and I would take care of everything.

I conspired with Jodi’s mom and sister and mine to buy her eight place settings in different colors, plus extra plates and bowls, then urged those guests who were planning to bring gifts to pick up serving pieces or Kohl’s gift cards that Jodi could use to add to her collection. Large boxes began showing up at our house (as well as money from relatives contributing to the gifts). It turned out better than a surprise party, in that Jodi was for weeks trying to figure out what was going on.

Big smile, blushing.

I’ll confess that once the plans were in motion, I became paranoid: what if I misremembered or misinterpreted how much she wanted these dishes? When I worked at Younkers, I would politely steer men away from the kitchen area when seeking gifts for their spouses. What if she was so excited – then crushed at the prospect of…just dishes?

But when I told the kids of my plan, Rose lit up. “Every time we go to Kohl’s, she walks through the kitchen area and walks past the Fiesta dishes, then walks back to them and looks,” she said.

A candle per decade? Can’t be!
C’mon — no boyfriends!

When people began showing up the day of the party – from South Dakota, Minnesota, and Michigan – Jodi was surprised and delighted. Later in the evening, when we insisted she open her gifts (she didn’t want to interrupt the visiting or to be the center of attention) she was genuinely floored. She opened one package, then another, and began to discern the pattern. Then she blushed, and smiled and smiled.

Mixed and unmatched

After 17 years of desire and denial, it was time, don’t you think? I used to call her my “bright side”—it’s about time I found a way to be hers.  Happy birthday, love!