I keep learning this great lesson. It’s something I know but seem to have to experience repeatedly for it to sink into my stubborn head. With kids, there’s no such thing as quality time, only quantity time.
Some people actually believe they can schedule quality time with their kids—moments when their kids will open up, reveal what’s really going on, and share. They want to schedule this time the way they schedule a business lunch. But, kids don’t work on these kinds of schedules. They open up when they’re good and ready, and it’s usually when you least expect it. This happened one weekend a couple of years ago with my younger son.
I bribed him to come skiing with me. Yeah, it’s hard to believe, but he wasn’t interested. My older son was, but my younger one got cold the first time we tried and has been against it ever since. My younger one wanted to quit early, as he was tired. Instead of berating him as I’d done in the past or displaying my impatience, I supported him and told him he was doing great. I didn’t push him. The upshot was, both he and his brother were tired after a couple of hours.
The same thing happened the second day. Again, I supported them. Each day, as a result, we were off the slopes and back in the condo early. It was hard for me, as I so wanted my boys to enjoy winter sports.
So, how does all this relate to the quality-time question? Simple. I hung out with my boys all weekend. I let them set the pace. I was there for them. I didn’t make it about my pleasure this time, as there are other times I can look out for myself. I’m not a martyr parent, which I believe can be quite destructive, but that is another subject altogether.
The bribe for my younger son was a Lego set he really wanted. When we returned home from our trip, he stayed up till after midnight working on it. At 12:30 a.m., he came into my room, sobbing because he’d broken it. I knew he was just running on fumes and desire. So I coaxed him back into bed, and he fell asleep within minutes.
The next morning, he arose and immediately went back to the Legos. After a while, he came to me asking for my help to fix the broken Lego. I was about to say, “Later,” as I was intent on what I was doing. But, I realized this could be a breakthrough, since he is the kind of kid who doesn’t reach out and ask for help. So, I said, “Sure,” and we worked on it together until we finally figured out the problem.
He was ecstatic, and then didn’t want me to leave as he continued to put it together. This is the quantity time thing—staying there, being there. It was a special moment, and I’ll cherish it.
It’s these moments that matter most in our lives—the little ones, like building Legos with your 8-year-old and figuring out where the mistake was. I hope I never say “later” to my kids again.
What a lesson in attitude for this dad. What a lesson for all relationships! When you show up with an open heart, an open mind, and focus on your child instead of yourself, you have every opportunity to win, to bond. This is the quality time we all strive for, though it was the quantity of time together that allowed the quality time to surface.
Once again, one of my mantras came true: The only thing good about getting older is the possibility of getting better.
Bruce Sallan writes on various parenting topics, all from a male perspective. Please visit His Web site: www.brucesallan.com.
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