The other day my wife asked me if she could read me something. Right away, I could tell that there was more to this than simple story-time - I know her tones after almost 10 years of marriage. I acquiesced, because I also know what is good for me after almost 10 years of marriage. She pulled out her copy of On Becoming Childwise, by Gary Ezzo and Robert Bucknam, and read the following excerpt to me (please bear with it):
The call for help came at a breaking point. Exasperated and bewildered, Jim was struggling to handle a seemingly senseless nighttime crisis. "Every night our little Megan wakes up and patters into our room," he said. "Each time, we take her back to her room, tuck her in, and tell her to stay there. It's no use. Thirty minutes later, there's her little face, perched like a puppy on the edge of our bed. Help!"
Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo agreed to meet with Jim and Bev, Megan's parents, in their home. There, they observed the family routine at dinner, playtime, and Megan's bedtime. That evening after she was tucked in bed with hugs and kisses, the adults retired to the living room.
"So what do you think?" Jim asked.
"I think," Gary said, "that your daughter is insecure. Something is going on inside that little person. There's something uneasy in her searching eyes."
Jim and Bev fit the profile of a young couple wanting to do their best in parenting. Like others of their generation, they lived with the self-induced pressure brought on by the cultural ethic that the child is always first, ahead of everything and everyone else. They believed this formula would ensure a sense of security for Megan. But just the opposite had happened.
Gary asked Jim to recount a typical evening's activities from the time he arrived home until the Megan went to bed.
"Enter door, greet wife, play daddy for thirty minutes," he said with a degree of pride. "This is Megan's time. We swing or draw pictures. Then, I might tickle her while she giggles and tries to get away. It's all about filling her emotional tank to get us through the evening hours. Then dinner and more time with Megan. Then, after bath, read Megan a story. Finally, bedtime."
Sacrifice? Of course. What child wouldn't want a did like that? So what was the problem? With such a dedicated routine, what could possibly trigger the bedtime visits? Most importantly, how could Jim and Bev fix the problem so everyone could get some rest?
Gary suggested a slight tweak in Jim's nightly routine. Instead of coming through the door and spending time immediately with Megan, he suggested Jim take the first fifteen minutes and spend the time with Bev on the couch, talking about each other's day.
Bev was liking this plan. For Jim it was tougher. He felt Megan would protest this change. She might pull on his arm physically, and emotionally tug at his heart. Still Gary encouraged Jim to inform Megan loving but firmly, "No. Mommy is first. When Daddy is done visiting with Mommy, then Daddy is going to play with you." Though this advice is flatly in opposition to the child-centred ethic of our day, Gary felt it was the very medicine Megan needed. With scepticism, Jim agreed to endure this exercise for a week.
Five days later the call came. "You won't believe it," Jim said. "After three days of me sitting on the couch with Bev before moving to playtime, Megan began sleeping through the night consistently. Not only that," Jim said, "but now she wakes up happy. Her whole demeanour during the day is noticeably different. The big challenges are gone. What happened?"
Before this change of routine, Megan had only seen her parents acting like husband and wife when they dealt with Megan's midnight visits. There she saw them sleeping together. She saw them working together to try to solve the riddle of her bedside visits. She saw them sitting at the breakfast table together, talking about how they might tackle the problem. In Megan's mind, her nightly episodes were bringing her mommy and daddy together - no wonder nothing was working to stop them.
By displaying this togetherness on the couch (during daylight hours!), Jim and Bev gave Megan what she longed for: the tangible confirmation of her parents' love for each other. At last Megan knew that her world was safe and secure.
(Ezzo & Bucknam 35, 37-39)
The point of this story isn't the story itself. My wife didn't read this to me for my entertainment, because frankly, that story is not really interesting to me. We also weren't having major problems with the kids getting up in the night (although they were occasionally, so that was her overt rationale for reading this to me). It didn't take long to figure out why she read this to me: She needs more of my time - more of me. It is humbling to hear this from your wife. Don't let your baby (be it your child, job, television, or hobbies) take precedence over your wife. She is number one, guys. Even a child can see that. Never forget that.
Stay REAL!
The call for help came at a breaking point. Exasperated and bewildered, Jim was struggling to handle a seemingly senseless nighttime crisis. "Every night our little Megan wakes up and patters into our room," he said. "Each time, we take her back to her room, tuck her in, and tell her to stay there. It's no use. Thirty minutes later, there's her little face, perched like a puppy on the edge of our bed. Help!"
Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo agreed to meet with Jim and Bev, Megan's parents, in their home. There, they observed the family routine at dinner, playtime, and Megan's bedtime. That evening after she was tucked in bed with hugs and kisses, the adults retired to the living room.
"So what do you think?" Jim asked.
"I think," Gary said, "that your daughter is insecure. Something is going on inside that little person. There's something uneasy in her searching eyes."
Jim and Bev fit the profile of a young couple wanting to do their best in parenting. Like others of their generation, they lived with the self-induced pressure brought on by the cultural ethic that the child is always first, ahead of everything and everyone else. They believed this formula would ensure a sense of security for Megan. But just the opposite had happened.
Gary asked Jim to recount a typical evening's activities from the time he arrived home until the Megan went to bed.
"Enter door, greet wife, play daddy for thirty minutes," he said with a degree of pride. "This is Megan's time. We swing or draw pictures. Then, I might tickle her while she giggles and tries to get away. It's all about filling her emotional tank to get us through the evening hours. Then dinner and more time with Megan. Then, after bath, read Megan a story. Finally, bedtime."
Sacrifice? Of course. What child wouldn't want a did like that? So what was the problem? With such a dedicated routine, what could possibly trigger the bedtime visits? Most importantly, how could Jim and Bev fix the problem so everyone could get some rest?
Gary suggested a slight tweak in Jim's nightly routine. Instead of coming through the door and spending time immediately with Megan, he suggested Jim take the first fifteen minutes and spend the time with Bev on the couch, talking about each other's day.
Bev was liking this plan. For Jim it was tougher. He felt Megan would protest this change. She might pull on his arm physically, and emotionally tug at his heart. Still Gary encouraged Jim to inform Megan loving but firmly, "No. Mommy is first. When Daddy is done visiting with Mommy, then Daddy is going to play with you." Though this advice is flatly in opposition to the child-centred ethic of our day, Gary felt it was the very medicine Megan needed. With scepticism, Jim agreed to endure this exercise for a week.
Five days later the call came. "You won't believe it," Jim said. "After three days of me sitting on the couch with Bev before moving to playtime, Megan began sleeping through the night consistently. Not only that," Jim said, "but now she wakes up happy. Her whole demeanour during the day is noticeably different. The big challenges are gone. What happened?"
Before this change of routine, Megan had only seen her parents acting like husband and wife when they dealt with Megan's midnight visits. There she saw them sleeping together. She saw them working together to try to solve the riddle of her bedside visits. She saw them sitting at the breakfast table together, talking about how they might tackle the problem. In Megan's mind, her nightly episodes were bringing her mommy and daddy together - no wonder nothing was working to stop them.
By displaying this togetherness on the couch (during daylight hours!), Jim and Bev gave Megan what she longed for: the tangible confirmation of her parents' love for each other. At last Megan knew that her world was safe and secure.
(Ezzo & Bucknam 35, 37-39)
The point of this story isn't the story itself. My wife didn't read this to me for my entertainment, because frankly, that story is not really interesting to me. We also weren't having major problems with the kids getting up in the night (although they were occasionally, so that was her overt rationale for reading this to me). It didn't take long to figure out why she read this to me: She needs more of my time - more of me. It is humbling to hear this from your wife. Don't let your baby (be it your child, job, television, or hobbies) take precedence over your wife. She is number one, guys. Even a child can see that. Never forget that.
Stay REAL!