Children like routines, I have been told. They give them a sense of security, a safety blanket (!) a rock to lean on when times get tough, and/or when they just don't want to fall asleep. Adults need routines as well, for the same reasons.
I know every Dad, every parent, sees the uniqueness in their own child, but seriously, Hannes is a very special, special boy - with very ordinary routines.
Jessica was out of town a few days, so I was left alone with Hannes. And as always, we had 80 percent blast and 20 percent frustration, evenly divided between him and myself. A lot of the times, our moments of frustration overlapped, so that when mine was just about to turn into a desperate surrender, his started.
Case in point: going to bed.
I can't blame him. If I spent such a fun day with me, I wouldn't wanna go to bed, ever, either. Let's face it, when the day begins with a quick hide-and-seek, continues with a breakfast on the balcony (and all the yoghurt you can eat), picks up pace with driving down to a big park with huge slides and fantabulous fountains and ends with hide-and-seek and a funny "let's-brush-your-teeth-song" that Jessi always sings but to which I had to make up a new Finnish text, who would want to just turn the lights off and go to bed?
Not Hannes.
In fact, my frustration led to me leaving him in his bed, where he lied for about a second before getting up screaming, throwing his stuffed animals, blankets. I closed the door and went to do the dishes. (Yes, that's right). I listened to the riot called Hannes for five minutes, and just when I thought he would have passed out, I heard the tapping of small feet in the corridor.
Hannes has climbed out of his bed, over the edge and jumped down. It is true: desperation gives people superpowers.
I gave up. We sat on the sofa for 45 minutes and watched "Consierge" on TV, until Hannes gave up. He fell asleep with his right hand still feeling after the tunes on his brand new keyboard.
Let's hope that doesn't become one of his routines. It wasn't funny.
