One of the adventures of life, which few people ever talk about, is the late night bonding that occurs between a parent and child. This occurs usually in the early toddler years. I don’t mean the typical late-night feeding and changes that mom’s typically deal with. There is, perhaps, a certain sort of bonding there, but I’m speaking of the rare chance a parent has to bond with their child in the middle of the night when the toddler is awake. And I mean WIDE awake. The child is set to bed, but lo and behold, a couple hours later, something was off in their internal clock and they think 9pm is 6am and they are ready to go.
This is a very delicate time. You want to be asleep. You are tired. The toddler is tired, or was, and now she wants to play. What do you do? You have a couple options, but it requires great strength to do the latter. The first option, which is ideal, is that you change and feed and try to put the toddler back to sleep. When that fails, you have only one other option. You have to be awake with them. This is where virtue comes into play. You can be a grump about it; you can stick the child in the crib and let them cry all night; you can disassociate and let them play in a safe area while you sleep.
Or you can surmount the begrudging tendencies and take the time to bond with your child. It is not easy, but you ought — you need — to do it. They likely won’t be up too long, so you sacrifice some sleep and enjoy a quiet time of playing with them in the still of night. The air is calm and cool, the crickets are chirping, and the world is asleep. But you get to play with your toddler. This is a rare and special occurrence.
This happened to me just the other night. Everyone else was suffering from an early fall cold. We were all tired, and we desperately wanted sleep, but M flipped her clock and was awake. We tried different tactics to remind her that it is bedtime, and none of them worked. Finally, by 1am I decided it was time to just suffer through it and take her downstairs. So we played, just the two of us, for about two hours.
M got to play with some cards and run around and giggle. We danced together to the Blue Danube, and a song about the Battle of Little Bighorn — which she loves because her siblings love it and are always singing it. We then went into the kitchen and served a traditional late night snack. We had a cheese stick and pepperoni and crackers. I took the time to get ahead of breakfast (a natural thing to do at 2am), and we made biscuits together. M managed not to dump the bowl full of flour, and we made some average tasting biscuits. Good enough for 2am. M also had her fill of flour and butter despite my best efforts to remind her that it is better cooked than raw. Then she got tired. Around 3am we went up back to bed, and she slept soundly the rest of the night.
I got to have a special time with my toddler alone — which is not common during the hustle and bustle of a normal day or week, but I was only able to enjoy it because I chose to participate in it. I could have grumped all night or let her fuss all night, but I chose the harder path and it yielding fruit. I was tired, yes, but I was able to enjoy the time, get ahead on the day, and have meaningful time with the toddler. She got to spend time with dad, which is important for children, and she got her energy out enough to resume sleep. The next night she was on her normal schedule and all was well with the world.
It’s important to take advantage of opportunities when they arise. They won’t always be pleasant, but they will be rewarding and there will be an unspoken bond that helps form to strengthen the tie of father and child. It also reminds the parent that at that young age it’s not the child’s fault, so the child shouldn’t be punished for it by being left to fuss all night so you can be convenienced with sleep. Instead, turn it constructive, and if possible, nap the next day. I might also recommend making cookies instead of biscuits. But don’t let things slip because things don’t go as planned. As I always tell new aviators: fly the airplane, don’t let the airplane fly you.
Semper Volans (Always Flying) 