fatherhood

The Second Third, Week 21: Stay-At-Home Dad, Part 1

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

First off, let me say that initially I committed to a Second Third post every Wednesday for a year. The “every Wednesday” part came unhitched when I remembered that I had also committed to teaching confirmation classes almost every Wednesday. For awhile, I started adding (Belated) to the titles when I posted after Wednesday. Now I’ll just be satisfied to hit 52 Second Third posts sometime around the second week of November.

Long story short: this is last week’s post.

Our dear friends Todd and Suzette and their kids were here last week. The weather was lovely, so we went to the park and even improvised soccer and kickball games in our too-small front yard. I tracked a high fly ball with such laser-like intensity and speed that I collided with the neighbor’s basketball pole, which rang like a bell, but left no mark. Classic Jim. I ran, jumped around, got myself winded and sweaty and sore. The kids are still talking about it. Everyone had a blast, and it was easy. It just requires me to be home a little more during the daylight hours.

So I mentioned in an earlier, different Second Third post that I was making a transition to a new position that would allow me a great deal more flexibility to write (and finish!) a book of my own. My new position also enables me to work from home more regularly, which means less time on the road. We’ll spend less on fuel and parking, and I’ll be home for Trevor’s baseball games, Emma’s soccer games, fishing, canoeing, gardening, swimming. I lose 10 to 15 hours a week in traffic; meanwhile, Gabe bought a knife with his birthday money, and it occurred to me that neither he nor Brendan have ever really whittled or scaled a bluegill. And Jodi and I have so little time alone together that a 20-minute lunch conversation over PB&J is a tremendous blessing. I need to be home more, and not just to finish a book!

In my Second Third, I have been blessed with the opportunity to work from home more often, and I don’t intend to squander this gift. Indeed, at this point I’m counting down the weeks.

The Second Third, Week 20: Good Shootin’

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Blogger’s Note: Sorry about the ad in the clip above; I couldn’t find an ad-free clip online.

Emma Rose turned nine today. Nine years old already, and I have friends and family whose tween and teen daughters are noticing — and worse, being noticed by — boys. I was thinking about this past year, and Emma getting her ears pierced on her own dime, and cutting her hair to donate to Locks of Love. She’s growing up faster than I’d like.

I was thinking about what a beautiful, bright young girl she is — what a tremendous blessing she is to us, and how none of the boys in the area better get any ideas — and a variation on the old “cleaning the guns” scare tactic occurred to me. I’d like to invite the young man to the range with me — my treat — just to get to know him better. And in my Second Third, I hope to master both the shooting tricks shown in the clip above from A Fistful of Dollars. I have the weapons for the job.

Bet I wouldn’t have to say a word…

Dostoevsky, or Three Things to Love About The Brothers Karamazov

/ J. Thorp / 2 Comments

Blogger’s Note: Three long summers (and three even longer winters) ago, I agreed to my friend Jacqui’s challenge to read 15 Classics in 15 Weeks. I have since read 10 of 15, this being my tenth from the list. The last one, Homer’s The Odyssey took 11 months, not because it was overly long or monotonous, but because it required a level of mental engagement I couldn’t always give it. The same is true for this one, which has taken me more than a year…

I literally just finished The Brothers Karamazov and logged into this blog with a tear in my eye. It has not managed to displace Steinbeck’s East of Eden as perhaps my favorite book ever (thus far) — but I imagine it will prove to be a 936-page seed that will germinate, slowly grow, and bear fruit years from now. It will stick with me, I have no doubt. Without further ado, Three Things to Love about The Brothers Karamazov:

  • Absurd As Us. Many, and perhaps most, of the characters seem absurd, even over-the-top. Chances are you’ve never been in a town such as this, with people such as these. You know no one like the Karamazov clan or their diverse friends and lovers — and yet, each rings true, and we recognize ourselves, our friends, and our families in the peculiarities we find here.
  • Fatherhood and Brotherhood. What does it mean to be a father? A brother? A friend? What would you endure for fools who share your surname, whom you can abuse but no one else can touch — what loyalties do we bear to our fathers, sons, and brothers? Though you might guess that this is a theme from the title, these ideas emerge slowly and subtly from the plot, since the Karamazov men’s family ties are, uh, looser than most…
  • Religion and Culture. Dostoevsky does not shy away from religion and philosophy, permitting his characters to speak at length (and in character, so not always clearly) about the existence of God, morality, humanity, science, psychology, justice, the state, and more. I was struck by how a book written circa 1880 could have so much to say about our world in 2011.

You might ask, would I recommend it? I might reply: in general, or to you, specifically? I don’t know how to answer, so for now, I will say that I enjoyed it very much, and that it rewards persistence. It is a great book.

I have another, contemporary novel to knock out before I proceed, but it should be a quicker read. Next on this long-running (and long-overdue) challenge will be a book not on my original list of 15, but one recommended by my good friend Fr. Tyler at Prairie Father: Brideshead Revisited. Fr. Tyler, incidentally, recently wrote this wonderful review of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

The Second Third, Week 14: Not Giving a Damn

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Blogger’s Note: Yes, yes…most of you know, but occasionally I get a new visitor. So in case you’re that guy or gal, the whole idea behind these “Second Third” posts can be found here.

My father’s machinist-mentor Chuck used to have a slogan hanging on the wall of his shop, and to this day, Dad continues to quote it: Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill. As you might guess, not being particularly skillful, I spent most of my youth thoroughly overcome by the treacherous old fellow.

Dad genuinely has different abilities and interests than me — that’s part of it — not to mention vastly more experience. But as I’ve become a father myself and watched my own children gaze in wide wonder at my courage, skill, knowledge, and strength, I find things that used to be a struggle come easier to me. In this respect, life in my Second Third is vastly more enjoyable that the previous 35 years — and I believe I know why.

See, when I was a kid, I was worried about million different things: screwing up, failing, disappointing myself, letting others down, looking stupid, getting hurt, hurting someone else, you name it. As the young samurai says in The Last Samurai, “Too many mind.” I was so wound up about about everything, so lacking in self-confidence, that I couldn’t accomplish anything without a messing up. My worries were often self-fulfilling prophecies.

My friend Father Tyler made a similar observation when he turned 30 last month: “[T]he pride which so hobbled my willingness to try then has been tempered. At thirty (especially as a professed celibate) it is much easier to not give a damn about how foolish one appears.”

I am not a professed celibate, but I can relate. I’m still not graceful, not mechanically inclined, etc. — but I can do many things I never used to simply because I’m no longer so tightly wound about them. Because I’m more secure in myself than I used to be, I can work within my limitations, ask questions, and be more patient — and it pays off more often than not.* In my Second Third, many** of the things that used to stress me and hold me back simply don’t concern me anymore. And as Fr. Tyler so aptly concluded, “To not give a damn, I am coming to understand, is one of the richest graces of full-fledged adulthood.”
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*Of course, being 6’3″ and about 240 helps, too, at least in terms of striking fear in children, and intimidation, like treachery, goes a long way in overcoming youthful prowess. And if I force it — and I do from time to time — I still fall flat.

**Not quite all…but I’m working on it.

The Second Third, Week 13 (Belated): Overcommit

/ J. Thorp / 3 Comments

Blogger’s Note: The whole idea behind these “Second Third” posts can be found here.

So I should technically be writing Week 14 of this series, which proved to be far more interesting in my head than it appears on screen. This is last week’s entry — exactly a week late and, ironically enough, about the tendency I have to overcommit myself.

Several natural but unfortunate tendencies contribute to my inclination to promise more than I can deliver:

  • First, I tend toward optimism: I can do it, things will work out, stars will align, etc.
  • Second, I’m horrible at estimating the time a thing will take.
  • Third, I tend to expand into the space I’m given, leaving no room for error or delay.
  • Fourth, I like what I like, and when I like it, I want to be involved. I say yes more than I ought, and don’t like to back down. Enthusiasm + pride + a touch of the martyr = unrealistic deadlines and self-imposed misery.
  • Fifth, I’m no manager. I like to do more than to delegate and direct, and filling someone in on a project (and then relinquishing control) nearly always seems waaaaay more difficult and time-consuming that just doing it myself.

Multiply these tendencies across multiple projects and decisions per day, and you can see A) why I’m a week late on this post and have blogged almost nothing besides these “weekly” Second Third posts since I promised to do them; B) why, when I look more than a few hours ahead on any given day, I feel nauseous; and C) why I’ve yet to teach my children any number of things I already knew how to do when I was their age.

This cannot stand. No is such a clear and easy word; I must pronounce it more frequently. I can’t blow my Second Third on ill-considered obligations I take on myself.