Baby Sammy

Any day now I'll meet my fourth son. Samuel Thomas. All things have gone well this pregnancy but it has kicked Kelli's butt a little bit. We're older now and have three rambunctious boys constantly destroying the house.

I'm tired. So very tired all the time. Despite that I'm excited to meet the little guy. Four kids is a lot. It's going to be hard. But it's going to be good in time.

Also I'm excited to call the baby various varieties of famous "Sams" like Samwise from LOTR, Samuel L. Jackson, Sammy Hagar and more.

I'm a nerd but this is my abandoned blog so deal with it. 

If anyone reads this, wish me luck.

Why I can't pray

So here's a thing I'll admit into the void of nonexistent readership. I don't pray.

I mean I do, but not really, and not well.

At bedtime with the kids I dutifully recite "I see the moon." At dinner we say grace. Now and again I'll toss up a "please God give us health."

But other than times of tragedy, that's it. That's all I got.

When my father-in-law died recently, I said the Divine Mercy Chaplet at his bedside, and I prayed with my wife that God comfort her and her dad and family etc., but that was serious shit.

When shit gets serious, I always reach for God.

When it's 5 p.m on a random Thursday, I find prayer impossible.

I titled this post "Why I can't pray" but if I'm being honest I don't know why I can't. I find prayer boring, dry, and when things aren't desperate, it feels futile. I know in my mind that prayer is none of those things, but even getting through an Our Father feels like a struggle these days.

I could blame the sex abuse crisis, working for the church for the last few years, or any number of things, but I know it's just on me.

Sometimes I feel like my whole life is a series of me knowing what is good for me, and deliberately choosing the opposite. If I eat right and exercise, I'll be fit. (No joke, I've had two Rice Krispy Treats and a Nutty Bar today). If I pray and live an upright life I'll be more fulfilled.... and yet it's Sin City over here.

Maybe this blog is a prayer. I know since it's largely inactive no one reads it, so who am I writing this for?

Lord, teach me to pray once again.

Nightmare of faith

A terrible dream I had last night. 

I dreamed I was at Mass. I wasn’t my usual self in pews with my family but I was….something. A deacon maybe? An acolyte? I was dressed in something liturgical, but I was not a celebrant. It was not unlike a Chrism Mass where many vested priests are in the pews. Many others were vested like me. I got the idea we were the same, but what we were wasn’t clear.

At Communion, somehow the line got jostled up and I ended up struggling to get to the front.  I got there and the priest picked up the host, said "Body of Christ.” As I began to stick out my tongue he crushed it, sprinkling the crumbs of the Lord all over my chest as I quickly struggled to catch them all and prevent their falling.

I yelled, "Why would you do this?" In an effeminate voice full of contempt he said, “Oops, I shouldn’t have done that,” and went on distributing. Sometimes he handed it out ok, others he tossed the Host. The other priest distributing next to him laughed with him, perhaps uncomfortably, but he did nothing.

In leaned back, using my body to catch all I could and tried to consume it all. There were far more crumbs than one host should produce. For each fragment I saved, two fell. I tried to get to the ground to cover and retrieve what fell but the mass of people in this chaotic communion pressed me on as I cried out. No one seemed to care.

I escaped to a rectory to try and at least save what may remain on my clothes, but my concern was met with apathy and my vestments were stripped off and taken away. Somehow I saw they were tossed in a laundry pile with no special care.

I was left standing nearly naked. No one saw me. No one cared about the abuse of our Lord that took place. No one did anything. And I just stood there.
------

There's some obvious symbolism in this. I need to process it more. My faith, weak though it may be, is in Christ and not in dreams. Still, this was a painful nightmare.

Bed time routine

So this blog was once about theological ideas and faith etc. Well I'm a dad of three now so if I blog at all it will probably be about them. Today, I shared my boys' bedtime routine with my sister who is babysitting tonight.... When you type it all out, it really makes clear that these kids are crazy!

ENJOY.

I will now write down the ever expanding bedtime routine, which if you deviate from, they might kill you.

For one, bed time starts about 8:30 now. Get them into PJs about then. Jacob HAS to pee. Nathan, suggest it. Benny, obviously gets new diaper.

Brush teeth. We don't do mouthwash with them anymore no matter what they tell you lol

If they're being crazy, let them brush themselves, but try to make sure the brush touches teeth and isn't just a conduit for drinking toothpaste.

Following teeth is the "drinking game." This stops the "I'm thirstry" refrain from occuring once in bed. Grab a cup, you get to play.

Possible script. 

"DRINK. Okay now stand on one foot.... and drink. Now spin around slow.... and drink....aaaaand I'm full"

When you're "full" they're usually ok being done. sometimes they demand to lead them game....your call.

At this point, I suggest putting Benny down. He's a bit hard to handle while doing the rest with the big boys. Oh, hold him during drinking game with his cup. He kinda likes to play.

So next is the dreaded story time.

Jacob will want his "Spot a Jedi" book (appropriate length). Nathan will want his Spongebob book (too damn long). There is no resolution that will satisfy both. May God be with you.

oh suggestion though. There's a softcover bunny bible somewhere in their room...they love it... sometimes that'll work for both.

After story is prayer. They'll ignore you most likely, do it anyway. They need Jesus.

Then Jacob "tackle hugs" Nathan. We have repeatedly tried to end this practice...they love it. Just make sure no one's head is smashed.

Now comes the new wrinkle of doom. You have to make them both, simultaneously, "disappear." Basically you hold them by their legs with their heads and upper bodies behind you while turning around and saying "Where's Jacob and Nathan?" until you want to die.

Now this is important

While turning, you drift to the light switch and dangle Jacob near enough that he can switch the light off and then on again.and do the same for Nathan

failure at this point will extend bedtime forever

Nathan turns it off, on, and off again. Then move away before he can turn it back on.

Deposit Jacob in bed, and tickle the twerp. Do the same to Nathan, and REALLY tickle the twerp. (Seriously. He won’t stop talking about it if you don’t.)

Now you've got them in bed! Sing the PJ mask song and then twinkle twinkle. You will be asked for various hugs and kisses.

Remind them if they don't go to sleep good, then don't get a sticker!

leave room.

Trust to hope.

Booze is in the cabinet by the back door

Third time's another charm

So I guess at this point this blog is reserved for me telling the internet and no one in particular that I'm having kids.

Last post came with Nathan was about 6 months old. Nathan is about to turn 2 now, and this March we will welcome Stegebaby no. 3, Benjamin Henry Stegeman.

As I said with Nathan, we don't plan our pregnancies. We leave that to God. God has blessed us with another child, and another son no less, and while we're now well aware of the difficulty of parenthood, we can't wait to meet baby Benny and for him to meet his brothers.

Fortunately we don't live in a time where the lack of a male heir dooms a family, but even if we did, I'd be set now. I was the last male of my line of Stegemans. If I didn't have a boy, the line of the name stopped with me. With three boys now, we're good!

Also, since this blog is really just a journal for me now, I mention for timekeeping that on Aug. 8 of this year (2016) I became Manager of Communications and Marketing for the Glenmary Home Missioners.

What other major events.... Oh! Kelli came back to full communion with the Catholic faith in December 2015. A joyful thing to be sure.


This December I got a 2005 Hyundai Sonata from Kelli's aunt and uncle.


I think that about covers it.... Well.. until the next kid, adieu!

Worth as much as the first

So this blog sort of shut down after Jacob turned one. Here's a crazy notion, that adorable little monster is now a two-year-old who generally resembles a person.

He can walk, talk, throw, arguably catch, dance and play with the best of toddlers and in my humble opinion, he is the best of toddlers.

But Jacob isn't alone. He has a younger brother!

With two kids I was far to tired to chronicle the journey of birth and early parenthood but the new one's name is Nathan and never has there been a more smiling child.

The second kid might get hand-me-down clothes, he might get old toys and used stuff, but every hug and kiss Kelli and I give him are brand new and just his. In some ways having two has been more challenging, but in many ways it is easier as we've done the newborn thing before.

Nathan is still an infant but he'll be six-months-old later this month.

He is my second son. His birth was the second time I felt love at first sight. But when I see his perfect smile, or see his big brother and him play together, there's not a doubt in my mind.

The second is worth just as much as the first!

I love my boys.

Today, a year ago, changed my life for the better

"Its ok. It's going to be fine. Just remember to breathe."

A year ago today I kept repeating those words, but to be fair, I was saying them to myself, not to Kelli. In fact, she wasn't even in full-blown labor yet, but I had a hunch July 23 was going to be the day.

I don't remember everything from the day of Jacob's birth. I remember watching movies at home. I remember a long debate over whether it was time to go. I remember Kelli's face winching with contractions.

I loosely remember getting in the car. I remember the 39284754829 steps of the LONG walk from Christ Hospital's parking garage to the maternity ward, the early exam, lots of waiting, suddenly less waiting, then more waiting, epidural time, Kelli in no pain, then Kelli in lots of pain and then....

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Louder than a Banshee and with more confused rage than I'd ever heard, a perfect little boy shouted his hello to the world. Around 6 a.m. Jacob was the alarm clock for the world that day and he's never stopped shouting. Anyone who has met my son knows that he wants you to know he's here. He won't let you forget, not that you could.

The little guy we'd once affectionately called "Baby Buttface" because he made his mommy not feel well was suddenly out and able to express his own displeasure with things. He was a pink and perfect and STRONG little person.

As soon as Jacob was out, even before his "Grand Hello," Kelli and I had a similar reaction. Something about that first sight of the boy led me to utter a guttural, primal sound I cannot recreate or explain clearly. It was a sigh, a laugh, a shout. Maybe it was part cry, part prayer. My conscious brain wasn't a part of that sound, but I felt it in my soul. I finally understood love at first sight.

The past year has been amazing, challenging and altogether just a big ol' bunch of WOW.

We took him home, fed him, changed him, loved him. He screamed and cried. We screamed and cried. He slept, we didn't. We slept, he didn't. We experienced the fear of his illnesses and trepidation of waiting for milestone.

Kelli and I spent hours in conversations like this.
Me: "I think he's swinging at nothing."
Kelli: "No, he's trying to grab Mr. Lion."
Me: "If anything he's reaching for Mr. Turtle. Pshaw....Mr. Lion."

Eventually his eyes focused on us, and I think he fell in love too. He rolled, he held his head. He sat.

He smiled, he cooed, he laughed, he crawled.

He's been a pumpkin, Yoda, Santa and and Elf.

He experienced his first falls, first foods, his first move to a new home.

Now he stands, talks, crawls at light speed and is thinking about walking. He cuddles and hugs us back. He says Daddy, duck, uh-oh, bottle, baby and doggy, all in his own Jacob dialect.

He can get into things you'd never imagine and still to this day if he doesn't think you're paying attention, you'll hear that Banshee cry until you give him what he demands.

Being a parent with Kelli has been such a wonderful adventure and we're excited to be doing it again. Today though is all about the baby who is becoming a little boy before our eyes.

I love you Jacob Michael Stegeman. Happy birthday little buddy. I can't wait to get home from work and give you and your mom a big hug and kiss.

Your whole family will be there to celebrate this weekend and let me let you in on a secret....You're going to LOVE cake.