By: Jamie Fields
Updated: Sep. 9, 2020
Originally Published: Feb. 26, 2015
When it comes to sticking to a strict bedtime routine, I’ll admit I’m not the best parent out there. Let’s just say I’m a bit of a pushover. I find it hard to say no to the classic 15-minute extension requests or the desperate pleas for “just one more story.” Perhaps if I didn’t share parenting duties, I’d be more disciplined, but I doubt it.
Most weeks, my daughter Mia stays with me two or three nights. I genuinely treasure those evenings and mornings together. Sure, there are moments of frustration—like her resistance to brushing her teeth or her constant refusal of breakfast options—but I suppose I was just as stubborn at her age. I try to embrace the chaos.
On nights when Mia isn’t with me, things take a different turn. Five years ago, as I embarked on this co-parenting journey, I promised myself that I would tell her “I love you” every single day. No matter my location or what I was doing, hearing my voice was crucial. Some might argue it was more important for me than for her, but it was a commitment I made.
Back then, I was still using a Blackberry, and Mia was only four. Our daily check-ins were simple phone calls, often brief since she wasn’t keen on chatting much. We tried to time our calls to avoid bedtime, hoping to keep her from dwelling on her parents’ separation just before she fell asleep.
Fast forward to now, and everything has changed. Just last Sunday, after a long day that included a flat tire and 120 miles of driving, I settled in to watch the Oscars when my phone buzzed. It was Mia, FaceTiming from her iPad at her mom’s house. Naturally, I picked up, thinking it would be a quick hello. I paused my show and snuggled onto the couch for what I assumed would be a short virtual tuck-in.
Twenty minutes later, Mia was still entertaining herself with her Littlest Pet Shops, and I realized it was time for her to head upstairs and prepare for bed. After a brief conversation with her mom in the background, I thought we were done. But then, she called me back, settled in her bed but still wide awake. This back-and-forth continued for another ten minutes.
Then came the moment that melted my heart. I couldn’t help but smile, torn between knowing she needed to sleep and the joy of her affection. A “normal” parent might have been able to resist her last text, but I found it impossible to cut her off. A few minutes passed, and I assumed she was finally brushing her teeth. With my Oscars back on, I hit play, ready to unwind. But the FaceTime session dragged on for another twenty minutes, and I started to feel a little frustrated. I wanted her to sleep, and I desperately wanted to watch the show after such a grueling day.
This whole experience got me thinking. I struggle with not responding to texts or emails, especially when it comes to Mia. I hesitate to be firmer over text because it feels permanent. She can scroll back and see the moment when I might have seemed to shut her out, even if I just viewed it as being a parent. Being firm about bedtime is tough enough in person, but when we’re apart, it becomes even more complicated. At what point does my instinct to shield her from our situation turn into a logistical parenting issue? Regardless of our circumstances, bedtime still needs to happen.
If you’re curious about similar experiences and insights, check out this article on home insemination. It might not be the usual parenting discussion, but it’s worth a look. For those navigating their own journeys, Make a Mom offers some great resources too. And for a deeper understanding of the process, Parents has an excellent guide on what to expect with home insemination.
In summary, navigating bedtime from a distance can be a challenge for co-parents. Balancing affection with the need for structure is no easy feat, especially when technology allows for endless virtual chats. As we all adapt to the evolving dynamics of parenting, finding that sweet spot between love and discipline remains a work in progress.