How Many Sleeps?
As the excitement of a special occasion neared – a birthday, a vacation trip, a visit to the zoo – whatever the promised event, the countdown with my children of “how many sleeps?” would begin in earnest about a week prior. This was a family tradition I wanted to start with my sons to signal to them that I was as excited as they were about an adventure – large or small – that we would share together.
Any sooner than a week out would be too much for them at younger ages to absorb. Too many sleeps to count posed the possibility of it seeming to take forever and that the date would never arrive. One week? That was well within the window of “this is coming, this is happening and it won’t be long now” for them to conceptualize.
I’m the chain breaker in my family. I’ve used bolt cutters for the bigger links and tin snips for the smaller bits that don’t take as much effort and energy. Some I was able to snap with my bare hands. From where I sit right now, today, the links are in pieces, scattered around me and I look upon them with pride. Breaking old habits, breaking toxic family bonds and abusive behaviour can take years. Some people never manage it, perhaps because they’ve never wanted to and the patterns repeat. Some have tried and for reasons known only to them have been unable to complete the task. I am among the many who have taken a sledgehammer to generations of repetitive negative, narcissistic behaviour and created a new path forward.
There are countless stories about the ways in which each of the chains were dismantled and the whys for which that needed to happen. Today it’s about excitement being allowed to build, being denied and despite all evidence to the contrary, always hoping the next time would be different. The power of one parent to control outcomes. To offer his children a treat, to watch them become excited and then pull that treat back and say “no, not today.”
I learned long before my sister did how to manage this kind of control. After too many incidences of a promise not being kept and no rational explanation given other than “I don’t feel like it today”, “I’ve changed my mind” or “I don’t think you’d enjoy it all that much.” And then a smirky smile that showed us there had never been any intention of following through with the promise. More fools us. The day came when I’d had enough.
The day, at age 11 or 12 when I knew I could control the situation. By not caring. By showing indifference. It took time and patience to convince my younger sister to follow my lead, but she did. The next time we were told we’d be headed for a day trip to the beach and listing all the things we’d be able to do, we were asked “Doesn’t that sound like fun? Would you like that?” I simply shrugged and asked if that’s what he wanted to do but said I didn’t care if we went or not. The air changed. The look on his face was one of surprise and puzzlement. A little further egging on from him to try and elicit some excitement that he’d be able to stamp out was a wasted effort. We did take that trip to the beach because he wasn’t going to be rewarded with our disappointed faces. True, he could still have changed his mind, but I played the trump card. I called his bluff.
I decided at that point that if I ever had children of my own I would never lead them on that merry dance. And only an emergency that was out of anyone’s control would change plans that had been made.
Thus the “sleeps countdown” was born. And the joy on their faces as we’d discuss what we would do when we got to where we were going made it worthwhile.
Being able to come through for children when you’ve made any promise to them means you teach them that your word means something. That you can be trusted. Those promises are worth keeping.
We’ve created a new kind of chain – one that’s made of love and respect. It bends and moves with us. One that is worthy of being continued with future generations.
I’m “counting sleeps” right now as I wait for one of those children to arrive home from the life he’s made for himself in another country over the ocean. He’s counting them too.