I have a goal to spend 30 minutes a week doing therapy with Caroline--stretching her arms, legs, feet, etc.; moving her around to help her muscles, etc. develop a bit. I'm not sure if that goal is admirable or pitiful. It's a good thing to do therapy with my daughter. But it's pitiful that I have to set a goal to spend 30 minutes a week doing it. I should be setting a goal to do it 30 minutes a day... but for now, 30 minutes a week is an improvement from where I have been, so we're going there first. Later we may increase that.
Anyway, so I sat beside Caroline and I started moving her arms up and down. She loves this. You lift one arm, then while lowering that arm, you lift the other. When you start doing it really fast, she giggles. So I worked her arms a bit--up and down, in and out to touch her chest. Work her forearm muscles a bit. After stretching various muscles, I looked at the clock. My work thus far had taken all of four minutes. How was I going to sustain this activity for 30 minutes?
But I persisted. I moved to her feet. Her ankle/calf muscles (whatever muscles control the angle of your foot) are really tight. So I would slowly bend her foot up and down, up and down. Then move her whole leg in a kicking motion. Then both legs in the scissor kick. The other foot and ankle. Bend knees up to her chest and out. Kick fast, kick slow. Stretch and stretch. More arm work--and hands. Her hands tend to twist down and out a bit; they do not easily twist to face each other (as if you were to clap). So I twist her hands and forearms and hold them there. Move her arms around. Up and down. In and out. Stretch. Stretch. Stretch.
Gradually, I began to fill the time. And as I did so, a surprising thing happened. Feelings of love and connection with Caroline began to grow and deepen. As I held her hands and arms and feet and legs and moved her limbs and massaged her muscles and talked to her and made funny noises to her, I felt greater caring and concern for this little child. The very personal service and physical connection and focused attention were, well, therapeutic for me.
I had done this sort of thing with Caroline before, but other times my attention was more distracted. A week or so ago I worked her muscles while I watched general conference. Another time I remember doing it during a family gathering. But this time we were driving across Nevada. Lizzy was into a book and Christine was two rows away in the front of the van. There was nothing--absolutely nothing--to divert my attention from Caroline. So she became my complete focus. And the movements and exercises we did became less of a task and more of a shared activity, more of a game, more of an expression of love.
I recall some time ago hearing a report of research that showed that parents who enjoy their time with their children are parents who focus on the child, who don't try to do too many things at once. When we are with our children when we are with them--when we are intellectually and emotionally focused on them--we find greater satisfaction in our relationship than when we are distracted or when we are attempting to get something else done at the same time. Multitasking is not necessarily always a good thing.
Granted, we can't devote our full attention to our children all the time or we'd never get anything done. But this experience with Caroline made me think that I need to devote more time to my children. I need to find more time when all I do is focus on my child. Whether it's doing therapy or playing Legos or reading a book or riding a bike or singing a song. And when I'm doing those things, I need to not focus on finishing the book (as I do often with bedtime stories) or building the Lego car. I need to focus on my daughter. I need to have more time when my child is the sole object of my attention. And, for that matter, I need to have more time when my wife is the sole object of my attention, when all I'm doing is seeking to meet her needs and make her happy and enjoy her company.
Such attention may not be more efficient, but I do believe it will be more enjoyable.
On a lighter note...
Yesterday the cousins who are here went on a walk. Caroline was happy outside and fussy in, so we took advantage of the great California weather to stroll around the block. Emma (the oldest of the four girls) decided we would play "choosers" as we walk. In the game of "choosers" you take turns choosing how we will walk. We took big steps, we took little steps, we kicked as we walked, we walked like monsters, we pretended to jump rope, we ran, we galloped, etc. And every three turns we stopped to take a water break. It was great fun. And when Gracie chose skipping as the mode of walking, Lizzy declared enthusiastically, "Oh, good. That's one of my talents!" And off she went skipping with her cousins. The image of those three adorable girls skipping down the street in front of me toward the sun--delighted with the weather and their friendship and the act of skipping--sticks in my head still.
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