The following is a story I heard recently that brings out extent to which your child learns from your actions.

A certain kindergarten teacher once warned a group of parents to be careful how they behave in front of their children.

"By way your children play in school," she said. "I know which of you treat each other respectfully. I know which of you use foul language at home. I know everything about how you behave in your home by way your child plays, talks, and behaves."

Remember, you might think that everything that goes on in your home behind closed doors is hidden from world, but it is not. Your child sees everything. Your child is going to take your behavior and broadcast it to world. Make sure that what he is transmitting is something that you want world to see.

Anthony Kane, MD

ADD ADHD Advances

But this is not a story about virtues of co-sleeping, for if you are a co-sleeper you have doubtless already read a library of those. Nope, this is story of a co-sleeping alumna. This is story of why we do it: it is what you will remember at three o’clock in morning when your twenty-three month old rolls over to nurse for seventh time that night; this is a mantra you can chant when your sex life has disappeared completely and your idea of well-rested is a solid three hours; this is answer to your repeated “why’s?” when your bed becomes so crowded that, like my mother, you end up spending your nights lying crosswise at foot of bed hoping for just an hour. It is as simple as this: co-sleepers breed co-sleepers. You’re giving your grandchildren gift of their parents’ bodies. You’re breeding a noble instinct, a culture of love and commitment, of families raising families instead of a technology of baby monitors and flashing light mobiles. That baby you are cuddling will likely someday know all it is to cuddle his or her own baby deep into night, evening after evening for years and years.

I feel safe in night, for all ways my parents held me rather than a crib. Between my mother and my father night time was never more dangerous than day, and when slow transition of movement into my own bed began, my parents continued to cuddle me in innovative ways. It is only now, with a daughter of my own to keep me company through long and short nights, that I understand dual gift of co-sleeping. I thank my parents for nights they kept me close, for bond created and emptiness avoided, for all good I know co-sleeping does for a child. But who knew that gifts extend way beyond childhood? Today I thank my parents for teaching me to continue tradition; for giving to both me, and my daughter, these nights we now share together. And lord knows, I hope that one day Ruby will lie in bed next to her own sleeping infant, reveling in little body so inspired by her side.