Memorable Moments

My son has come to my room a couple times in recent weeks complaining that he "couldn't sleep." Being the obvious problem-solver that I am, I pointed out the obvious - that somehow his TV and light managed to turn back after I last visited the room - and suggested that were I to remove the cables from the back of the TV (thereby making the Static Channel the only option) it might help induce a slumberous state.

Unfortunately, as is often the case, the true problem is not the problem that is brought up initially. And while I have been taking courses on Active Listening wherein I am learning how to better seek out the underlying concern behind outward behaviors, 10:30pm is not the time at which I would like to employ these measures.

Last night, my son approached me differently.

"Dad," he said.

"Yes?" I replied calmly (it was before bedtime - after bedtime the response is "WHAT?!?").

"When can I come and sleep in your room again?" he asked.

In my last apartment, my son shared a room with his sister. When she got older (and when the X x-ited), I moved him into my room, as it was of sufficient size to hold two beds and still have substantial floor space. Until we moved into the house, he had always shared a room with someone else. Getting his own room was bittersweet; he has his own room, but it's just him in there at night.

"You've got your own room now," I said. "You need to sleep in there."

"But you've let me sleep in here before," he countered.

I did? I thought to myself. When?

"I did?" I asked. "When?"

As you see, I am a complex individual.

"That one night when you let me sleep at your feet," he answered.

Oh, yeah, I thought (this time to myself).

Before you get the impression that I treat my kid like the family dog, it's important to specify three things. First, we don't have a dog. Second, the boy likes table scraps. And third, he was remembering the night when he woke me up close to midnight and I was too tired to shoo him back to his room, so I capitulated and told him to get his comforter and pillow he could sleep on top of my bed.

What struck me was how he spoke of that memory so fondly. It was a Big Deal to him that he got to sleep in my room. For him, that was a Special Event, so special that it warrants Capital Letters when writing about it.

It dawned on me then how much effort I expend trying to artificially inflate the importance of one set of things and in doing so overlook another set of much simpler things that wind up having more value in the long run. I try (and often fail) to do a few things that are spectacular, yet I would probably get greater results if I invested the same amount of energy to do more things that are simply good.

"I really liked that," he said.

Wow. Something that cost me neither time nor money (it didn't even cost me much sleep!) turned into a positive memory that he's been holding onto and will continue to do so.

"Well, until the morning when you farted in my face."