Respectful Communication (and a Johnny Cash diaper changing song)

I'm a major left-brained person. Language and words are my second love. Naturally, they flood my relationship with my baby daughter. I talk to her a lot, and she communicates with me as well. I tell her about my day (even asking her about hers), describe things that I am doing and seeing, I sing her songs, and dabble in nonverbal communication by mimicking her facial expressions. However, healthy communication is a two-way street and involves a lot of listening by daddy too.

Last night, I told my wife that I would take the 2 a.m. late night feeding for her so that she could get a longer block of sleep than usual (my normal late night shift is the 5 a.m. slot). And though the silence of the night was shattered by that identifiable newborn cry, I responded to my daughter by listening. From there, we enjoyed an hour long two-way conversation without the distractions of the day to interrupt us.

"Harper, I hear you crying. It sounds like you're hungry. Would you like me to pick you up out of your bassinet to bottle feed you?" I didn't expect a well thought out answer. I did want to let her know that Dad understands her feelings, however. I did my best to communicate that respectfully.

As we walked through the darkness of the house I stopped by the lightswitch to the kitchen. "Harper, I am about to turn on the light. I know that you are sensitive to the light, so be prepared for a little shock to your system." While she didn't say, "Gee, thanks, Dad." I do believe that babies, like toddlers, tweens, and adults appreciate transition time and not being caught by surprise.

With a warm bottle of breast milk in hand, we sat down in a dimmer living room. "Now, Harper, I'm going to rub the nipple of this bottle on your cheek. You need to root and find it in order to get the milk from inside. Let me know if it is too warm when you start drinking it." As she latched on and started to suck, I could see by the look on her face that the milk was just right for her.

As she drank at her own pace, I sang made-up songs to her, including my own rendition of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire", which I titled "Stinky Diaper". I told her that I was tired, but still enjoying the time that we had to bond with one another, and I made frequent eye contact with her to let her know that I was there for her and in-tune with her.

We went through the same scenarios as I changed her dirty diaper before putting her back in her bassinet.

"Harper, I'm going to lay you down now so I can change your diaper."

"I know you don't like having your diaper changed, so I will do it as quickly as I can."

"You're doing such a good job at using your hands to calm yourself down."

"Yay! We're done. Would you like to go back to bed now?"

Through using respectful communication with my daughter I have not only been able to bond with her. I feel like I understand the language of her cries better. I respond more appropriately. She is calmer during transitions from place to place and activity to activity. But more important to me, I'm setting the groundwork for a lifelong relationship with her where communicating with Dad is safe and expected. I'm letting her know that I want to understand her feelings and desires. I'm letting her know that there are boundaries that she must stay within. And she is letting me know that she hears what I say and that it makes a positive difference to her. How invaluable will that be once she is a teenager?