I have three children. Jeremy will turn 5 in a few days. Rebekah is 3 1/2. Doug is 13 months. Brian and I decided, and our experience has taught us, that our kids like routines and schedules. I have co-slept with my newborns for increasing periods of time, but I typically don't do that for more than 3 months. I have no judgement on those who do, it's just not right for me. I covet my sleep and I like to sleep by myself. I sleep in bed with Brian because he's my husband, but I don't like to be cuddled, touched or snuggled.
In any case, we adopted a routine that felt right for us and has borne out to be the right thing for our family. I would love for our bedtime routine to start at six o'clock. I get worn out from the constant barrage of questions. I covet my evenings, where I can blog or connect with other adults or in some other way disentangle myself from my family. I love everyone, but I am a better mommy when I have some regular adult interaction.
Alas, six o'clock doesn't work for us because that's when Brian arrives home. There are days when he arrives home and is immediately confronted by screaming, tantrumming children. Those days, bedtime comes early for one or more of the small people in my house.
So we usually start the march toward bedtime around 7. I relinquished bedtime and bathtime to Brian a long time ago. I figure, I take care of all other times, from breakfast on through dinner. Why not take something off of my plate. That's not to say I plop down on the couch once the kids have disappeared upstairs, pick up my iPhone and tune everything out. Nope, I typically spend a good hour picking up toys, clothes, sippy cups and flotsam. I get the dishwasher loaded, vacuum, wipe the counters down, check the calendar for the next day, etc. I don't really stop moving until it's my bedtime, which is consistently two or three hours past when it should be.
Now. I estimate that Jeremy has been going to bed 1825 nights in a row, give or take. Some of these, it's true, he's been in the hospital. Probably more than most. I'll knock about 15-20 days for the hospital, but still. 1800 nights in a row, he's gone to bed. We do not let our kids run around until they pass out. Everyone sleeps in their own bed (again, this suits our family well). There are rules about bedtime. #1, Stay in Bed. #2, Close Your Eyes. #3, Stay very quiet. #4, Go to sleep. I don't mind them talking to each other, but really, this is not the time to play Kipper or tag or other crazy, active games.
It amazes me, then, that every night bedtime is met with shock. I don't mean like "oh, no, a spider just dropped into my lap. Eek!" I mean, like genuine shock. They are blindsided by bedtime. Every night. Even just the announcement that it's time to take their clothes off is met with consternation.
Negotiations commence from that moment and continue until Brian has shut the door to their room. These are high-powered negotiations, ones that would make CEOs proud. They ask for concessions of all kinds; extra shows, more water, more information on what we're doing tomorrow. They beg and plead. They request extra stops to the bathroom. Brian has to acquiesce because they tell him, if he doesn't, they'll make a mess in their pull-ups and that would be a disaster. (Their words, not mine.)
In a perfect world, bedtime would resolve with their bedroom door closing. But it doesn't. There are the numerous trips into the hall. Brian and I sit, watching TV and trying to catch up on our day. We typically hear the door open and then the distant chatter of our two oldest. Our strategies swing between yelling (from where we're sitting) that they should go back to their room. On nights when I still have some vestiges of patience, love and tolerance I go over to the bottom of the stairs.
Usually, there are two cherub faces looking down at me. "I have a question for you," they'll say. I typically sigh, then ask, "what?" In my heart, I'm hoping it's something new and fresh. It's usually not. "What are we doing today after naps mommy?" I've determined that they don't understand days per se. In their minds, it's just one, continuous day. They don't know that, upon waking up, it will be a new day on the calendar. Hence, "what are we doing today after naps."
It continues on like that for some time until, finally, they fall asleep. We have found Jeremy asleep in the hall a few times. He has crept down to see us and told us, "Mommy and Daddy, Bekah's eyes are closed. I can't sleep." I am not sure what's going to happen when they no longer room together; he is absolutely lost when she is napping or not around. We usually encourage him to do the same thing; close his eyes and go to sleep. One more kiss, one more hug, and then he patters off to bed.
Thus concludes bedtime....until tomorrow night.
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