I am going to make some assumptions, which may be way off base, right on the nose, or anywhere in between.
I shall assume that from your points of view, at almost 7 and roughly 2.5 years old, that if I do not drop what I am doing to play, make believe or read to you, I prefer to do something else.
I am also going to assume that since no time management is needed from you, the idea of “time management” is a foreign concept.
Finally, I will assume that some feelings have been hurt by my not playing or dropping everything, but that you have gotten over that fairly quickly; it is amazing how fast kids bounce back.
Currently, life is a bit crazy. Work, school and sports keep us busy; add in a new baby, and we have a recipe for absolute chaos. I do not believe I have ever lived off of 4ish hours of sleep as part of a regular schedule, but the last 7.5 weeks have proved it is possible. Sure, I have had very late nights, but then I slept in or made it up. Staying up until midnight to get studying done and then waking up at 4:45am for work, day in and day out? A whole new thing.
Free time has never been more precious, or less of an option.
It feels like a nightly occurrence that I put down Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and hear, “No, please read more, it isn’t that late” or, “Just one more page!”
It also feels like a nightly occurrence that my heart breaks.
It seems like I crush you each night, by only reading Hugga Bugga Love and refusing to read Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You? as a second story, or by refusing to read an extra page as Harry cuts into his own hand with a quill. The frustration and sadness on your faces is all too real, and it cuts very deep.
Each day when I get home from work, I am met by a wave of enthusiasm and energy, waiting to climb all over me or try to knock me to the ground, and most days, I disappoint by pointing out that I need to change, cook dinner, and get some stuff done.
I think it possible, if not likely, that from your point of view I prefer to do other things over play or read to you. When I pass on watching something with you, the look I get seems to say, “Who would you rather watch this with?” It is hard for a kid to realize that PJ Masks isn’t that exciting for an adult to watch, it is not a matter of preferring to watch with someone else. Likewise, the idea that someone would choose to read a textbook over Harry Potter or Where the Wild Things Are must mean it is self-evident they would rather read the textbook. I would guess that you think my computer is the most interesting thing in the world to me, based on the amount of time I have been spending on it. Fun fact, I hate computers, and the fact that I work on one for eight-plus hours a day by choice is not a contradiction that is lost on me.
The problem is, your perception is not reality; nor is mine. My assumptions might be totally off, as might yours. Reality does not live in our minds, but in the objective world around us. Seeming and being are not synonymous, nor should we expect them to be. By assuming that our perspective is relevant to other people, we set ourselves up for disappointment. Most others are not sitting around pondering how their actions may be understood by someone else, they assume they are comprehensible at face value.
This is one of the grave dangers of false narratives. The human mind will respond to what it perceives, and react accordingly, even if that is not logical or reasonable. Assuming that someone is out to get us will cause us to respond accordingly, often to our detriment. We need to be able to step back and try to remember that objective reality lives outside of our experience.
The safest bet is to always assume that whatever injustice or inconvenience we face is in our own head. Give everyone else the benefit of the doubt, and assume that it is our own flawed perception. We will be happier for it.
Love,
Dad