Dave said the other night he asked himself, “why am I
washing the dishes?” He was cleaning up in the kitchen while the older two were
playing by themselves in the playroom next door; I was upstairs nursing Elijah.
It occurred to him he should just try to spend some quality time with each kid,
so he stopped washing, asked Eric to join him on the couch, and gave him his
full attention while asking about his day. Then he patted his bum and sent him
back along to play. Ellie wanted to do the same thing, so then Dave sat on the
couch alone with her for a while to ask about her day.
I came downstairs with the baby to find Dave reading to both of them, and they both were unusually attached to him the rest of the night.
When I’m at home with the kids, I can get really focused on all the stuff that needs to get done around the house, particularly since I tend to be a task-oriented person. That’s all good, but sometimes I miss out on what’s right in front of my face: my kids. At home. With me. My kids who don’t care about how clean the house is, how tidy their rooms are, how fancy dinner is. My kids who probably just want Mommy to 1. be happy, and 2. spend time with them. Too often I fall into a pattern where I’m busy doing a chore, and only paying attention to them when they interrupt me, usually for something I find negative or frustrating. I go to them because I have to referee, or clean up a spill, or find a lost toy; I don’t go to them because I want to volunteer concentrated, focused, loving time.
I think one love language all kids have to some degree is quality time, when I give my full attention to an individual child in uninterrupted fashion. It could be thirty minutes at home, or a date out, or a bedtime talk, or a daily walk. It’s a good reminder to do the more important, less urgent thing. And I’ve noticed when their love tanks are filled up, they are in much better moods for the rest of the day.
I came downstairs with the baby to find Dave reading to both of them, and they both were unusually attached to him the rest of the night.
When I’m at home with the kids, I can get really focused on all the stuff that needs to get done around the house, particularly since I tend to be a task-oriented person. That’s all good, but sometimes I miss out on what’s right in front of my face: my kids. At home. With me. My kids who don’t care about how clean the house is, how tidy their rooms are, how fancy dinner is. My kids who probably just want Mommy to 1. be happy, and 2. spend time with them. Too often I fall into a pattern where I’m busy doing a chore, and only paying attention to them when they interrupt me, usually for something I find negative or frustrating. I go to them because I have to referee, or clean up a spill, or find a lost toy; I don’t go to them because I want to volunteer concentrated, focused, loving time.
I think one love language all kids have to some degree is quality time, when I give my full attention to an individual child in uninterrupted fashion. It could be thirty minutes at home, or a date out, or a bedtime talk, or a daily walk. It’s a good reminder to do the more important, less urgent thing. And I’ve noticed when their love tanks are filled up, they are in much better moods for the rest of the day.
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