I have a 2-year-old boy named Ness. This morning, as often, he woke up way before he needed to and wanted some playtime. “Zeeeshaan, wake up. Please.” We are on a first-name basis. In the past, I’ve tried to give in every time he used ‘please’ to reinforce the habit. In any case, the imploring “pleases” with the large affectionate eyes are too hard to refuse. Today, though, the need for sleep was too strong, and my eye mask served as a shield against his eyes.
I said, “No Ness, I’m too sleepy. I need some more time. Please”. He exerts the best self-control one can expect from a two-year-old, pretending to read his book, talking to himself, and stealing glances at me. I get five more minutes before he starts to gently pet my cheek. This is the first time I’ve seen him actively try to hold himself back. To understand the concept of another person’s needs. I hope this is the first step towards building kindness as a character trait. And towards a chance at me sleeping longer in the mornings.
Kindness is one of three values I hope to help instill in Ness. The others are openness and competence.
Kindness comes first, supported by openness and competence to make it impactful. Openness broadens his perspective, allowing him to see the world through others' eyes and notice where others need help. Competence - pursuing excellence in what you do - magnifies his power to make a difference.
These are the values I believe make the human existence meaningful. I strive for them in myself and admire them in others. They have guided my life decisions, leading to a mostly regret-free life and to finding a compassionate, capable partner.
Being open to the world and leaving it better than I found it resonates with the core of my being.
My wife and I structure Ness’ day to practice these values through specific habits: building self-efficacy through small challenges, frequent reading and storytelling, and connecting with others.
Competence: A School Worth Half Our Rent
My wife is usually the first to scrape herself off the bed and take Ness to school. He attends a Montessori daycare, a style that instills independence in children. The program is bilingual (English and Spanish) and among Barcelona's best. It also costs more than half our rent.
The teachers are affectionate yet respectful, treating the children as capable mini-adults. He is taught to do things for himself with minimal help - to chop soft vegetables, knead dough for bread, and clean up after himself and others.
At home, his independence demonstrates itself in small victories. He wields his child-sized knife through avocados with careful concentration. When thirsty, he takes his cup to the water cooler and fills it just right - with minimal glass smashes and water spills. Giving him autonomy builds his trust in his own ability, which is the first step to competence.
Openness: The Sleepstorylistener
At 4 pm, one of us picks up Ness from school. We then have about five hours to actively choose what we do together.
Storytelling fills our journey home from school. Day and night, I'm tirelessly narrating stories to Ness. Unless it's 3 am, I try to hide a lesson in the stories. For openness, the stories often include a small lion and a BIG lion. The big lion is unfazed by obstacles, but his size and brute strength sometimes cause unintended damage, like breaking the playground swing. The small lion, nimble and dextrous, finds a way to fix everything. Together, they make a great team, showing that size doesn't determine worth. Some evenings are dedicated to books, where we cuddle on a yoga mat that serves as his play area, and we meet his favourite characters within the pages. I hope reading - and eventually writing - will become a lasting habit. Books expose him to the world’s knowledge and could spark a habit of writing as he grows, encouraging clear and deep thinking.
Ness craves stories at all hours. When he wakes in the middle of the night, he looks at me, still mostly asleep, and asks for a story. He’s not sleepwalking, barely sleeptalking - he’s sleepstorylistening.
Kindness: Learning to Share the Jump Jump Jump
Ness’ favourite evening activity is the “jump jump jump park”. It's a playground with two small trampolines, each just big enough for one toddler. They are hugely popular with the kids around. Ness usually has to wait his turn before he gets to “jump jump jump”. Also, critically, he has to learn to stop after a short while to give others a chance. He almost seems to notice the eagerness in the waiting eyes, and steps off. With just a few early nudges, he's growing attuned to this give and take. At the park, he’s learning to recognize and respond to others' needs.
What Comes Without Teaching
Some characteristics come innately to Ness. He’s fearlessly curious. He’s willing to hurt himself to figure things out. He will make that jump off the high platform to see how it feels. He will walk straight up to the large barking dog and try to pet its face. We want to give him space for this curiosity and drive to flourish while keeping him alive.
Ness outclasses us when it comes to overall energy. He takes longer to fall asleep than we do and likely clocks more steps than us daily, even accounting for his little legs. A tiny motor inside him keeps him toddling nonstop, like a baby Duracell bunny.
Some mornings, when he wakes me, I have to exercise kindness on my part to get out of bed. I remind myself to be open to his needs, which at 7 am are different from mine, yet equally worthy. And I must competently craft him a morning story that’s both entertaining and educational.
His increasingly gentle ways of getting me out of bed make it all worth it.
I want to be a "sleepstorylistener" as well!
What a lucky kid. You sound like a great dad! I have a one year old and you are making me think about the kind of parent I want to be. Thanks for sharing!