One: Flight from family.

I did a lot of parenting before getting on this plane

SALT LAKE CITY—I have travelled more than half a country away from my children to work on a book about how we all should have more kids.

It’s not the first time I’ve done this sort of thing. To hash out the first, embryonic outline of this book, I took my pitbull and my banjo to a cabin in West Virginia, leaving my beloved bride Katie with six kids (and the extra dog). This was during the COVID lockdown, too.

To my credit, in this past weekend, I did quite a lot of parenting. And so I’ll begin this first issue with the daddy-blog portion of this all.

Parenting in Practice: A lot of walking around

Friday night was the company Night At The Ballpark for AEI. Somehow, when I saw that my youngest three had a half-day, I hatched the idea that I should get the kids from school at noon, and right away take them to the ballpark and environs—for a 7 pm game.

So I got to Navy Yard four hours before first pitch. Then the game took more than 4 hours, lasting so long that our mayor cancelled the postgame fireworks which my kids were all looking forward to. (I imagine Mayor Bowser proceeded to have her own midnight fireworks show.) It was a full day of work, with my job being hanging out with young kids in DC’s Navy Yard.

Some brief observations after this all:

1) Hot dogs are not as kid-friendly as parents or kids believe. My youngest (4.5 years old) really was put off by the idea of eating a hot dog at the ballpark, even though she asked for it. When we did a community picnic today with free hotdogs, she ate zero of it. I have a very clear memory of a brilliant friend trying to get his 2-year-old (his oldest) to eat a hotdog, and turning to his patient and equally devoted-to-the-hotdog-eating wife and saying “oh, this is a disaster.”

Really, little kids just want chicken nuggets.

2) Empty, dark, open churches are a godsend.

We stopped at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church near the ballpark. It was miraculously open.

I had last been here for an in-law’s wedding a few year’s back. I was with three kids ages 4-to-8, and so quiet, reflective prayer in the Presence of Christ is not their habit, but after a metro ride, and a slightly hot walk around city streets, they all found this visit soothing.

After we found some free rosaries for the taking, my 7-year-old told me “I need some alone time,” and he knelt in front of a statue of the Blessed Mother and prayed two decades of the rosary.

This idea that we all need to rest our minds, bodies, ears, and eyes does not come naturally to me. But my kids seem to both understand this better than I do, and to exhibit more clearly the need for such retreat.

“Our heart is restless until it find rest in thee.”

3) Free stuff

Before the stadium opened, we walked up and down the riverfront. We visited a pier and spoke to a fisherman. We visited a (kinda gross) “water feature” near Navy Yard, and walked under the cool waterfall. We checked out yachts, and visited a grassy park.

Why did I do these specific things? Because none of these things cost money.

When you have six kids, anything that costs money per capita is a dagger. So you look for things, like a walk, a free waterfall-thing, yachts to stare at, that are unpriced, and you take them in.

The whole night at the ballpark was paid-for, including a food credit of sorts, which led me to scolding the kids, “I know you’re hot and hungry, but we’re not eating until we get to ballpark.” This will thoroughly confuse them when I don’t have a ballpark food credit, and I say, “you have to eat now because we’re not buying food inside the ballpark.”

A city, a neighborhood, or a culture built for family will be one with lots of unpriced things, like parks and playgrounds, or at least fewer pay-per-head things.

And the greatest free thing is walking around.

Stuff I Read: ‘My parents have 11 children. Here's why I'm grateful to be part of a big family.’

Theresa Olohan at USA Today wrote about being No. 4 of 11:

“Having lots of siblings means that there is always someone to celebrate your joys, and to comfort you in hard times. When my grandmother passed away shortly before Christmas last year, all 13 of my family members gathered around the fireplace to pray for her together.

“When the rest of the world was shuttered and cold due to the COVID-19 pandemic, my parents welcomed every one of their 11 children home to quarantine – the first time we had all been together for an extended period since my oldest brother went to college.

“Nearly bursting at the seams with 13 people sheltered inside, my home saw Zoom Masses, family dinners and movie nights. A moment in history that should have been scary and depressing has become one of my favorite memories.

“This time together reinforced the truth to me that all the money and recognition in the world can’t replace the human connection and love that I find in my siblings and parents, which is the trademark of big families.”

People I Met: Garfield and his six-foot-tall wife

Today was a “Friendship Picnic” at our local park. I brought the four youngest kids, and partook of county-funded hotdogs, tater-tots, hispanic sausages of some sort, ice cream, carousels, bouncy-houses, and other entertainment. I frequently lost track of my kids, which part of my parenting style.

Losing track of your kids is an essential ingredient for parental sanity.

At one point, I forgot about my kids in order to interview a couple that intrigued me. His name was Garfield. He has four kids. I told him I had six, and his very tall wife replied, “That’s my nickname: Six.”

Their youngest is probably 4 or 5. Their oldest a teenager, like mine.

They’re a working-class, local family. Garfield is from Prince George’s County and works for the Montgomery County Parks Department. I asked them what mattered to them in parenting, and they gushed about the parks. They said the county could use some paintball battlefields.

“Integrating your kids with the other kids,” was the most important practice Garfield cited. The key to happy parents and happy kids is kids who naturally run with a bunch of others—and can do so without being bullied or dragged into crime or trouble.

But don’t their friends rag them for having four kids?

“It’s what you’re supposed to do,” Garfield shrugged. “Be fruitful and multiply.”

Parenting Philosophy: Parenting is Easy.

Parenting is super hard no matter what. But I had a quick thought during Mass Saturday evening, which I’ll flesh out more fully later.

For now, let me put it this way: Parenting is actually a cheat code.

Parenting is a trick to more easily do the really hard stuff that you have to do anyway.

Want virtue? Parenting will give you the practice more readily than you would otherwise get.

Self-sacrifice. Patience. Seeking the good of another over your own good. No parent does these things all the time, but nothing makes these virtues flow more naturally than being charged with the care of your own little, innocent offspring.

To get slightly more religious: Jesus said to feed the hungry and clothe the naked? Do you do that? I do. Because I wake up with hungry and naked people already in my house every day.

What I’m doing here

My goal with this newsletter is to share thoughts and findings about parenting, birthrates, the culture, and policy, as I work on this book. Sign up, subscribe, share etc.