Lullaby, and Goodnight. I Said Goodnight!
There are a few things I like to do around 10:30pm. I like to slide into bed around 10:30pm, ready for a full night’s to rejuvenate a body worn down by a day filled with three screaming children, one barking dog, and two puking cats. Realistically, I like to finish my pre-bedtime chores around that time, like throwing wet laundry in the dryer, writing a blog post, and cleaning up the cat puke.
Last night around 10:30pm, I was doing something I’d prefer not to do that late: Taking care of Abbie. She was fine, no ear infections or monsters hiding under her bed, possibly ready to afflict her ears with infections. She just didn’t want to sleep.
Ordinarily Abbie is an excellent sleeper. After we go through our elaborate bedtime routine, I shut her door and usually don’t open it again until morning. Not that she goes to sleep immediately. Usually I can hear her banging around her room for up to a half-hour after shutting the door before she falls asleep. Sometimes I have to intervene and return her to bed, like when she uses those magical toddler superpowers to levitate up to head-splitting heights and can’t climb back down. Otherwise we let her run around the room, discovering how the closets change when the lights are off, and trust that she’ll eventually wear out and fall into bed.
Last night, she wanted no part of sleep. I should have known we’d have problems when she slept late that morning and took an extra long afternoon nap. I shut her door around 9:30pm like always, and she started complaining almost immediately. When the screaming hit a level of fury suggesting she’d need therapy in her teenage years to overcome her abandonment issues as a toddler, we checked on her to ensure that she didn’t have a genuine need like getting dislodged from whatever precipice she found. Turns out she was just angrily sitting in bed. I gave her a kiss and told her I loved her to calm her down, and left the room.
Ellie and I repeated this process four times over the next 20 minutes, partially because neither of us was sure when or even if the other one checked on her recently. Each time Abbie would calm briefly before returning to a screeching level loud enough to wake the dead, or at least her brothers. Finally, when it was clear the twins couldn’t sleep without drastic measures, Ellie brought out the big gun: Resting with Abbie in her bed. She lay with her in the toddler bed, holding the child close to keep her in bed until her screaming turned into screaming. Ellie stayed with her for ten minutes, succeeding in tamping the screaming down to a general moan, but she hit frantic again almost as soon as Ellie left the room.
I tried to calm her again, but quickly saw that even singing could calm her down. So I let her out of her room. This is the absolute last step in getting her to sleep, letting her run around the house for a few more minutes to wear herself out and reset her approach to dreamland. She did her best to wear herself out by running around the house, chasing the dog, and bouncing on our bed. I gave her a few minutes of exercise before returning her to her room, but each time she screamed shortly after I left the room, and once even woke Tory.
Finally around 10:30pm, after watching her dance in and out of her room for a half-hour, I gave up, shut her in her room, and stayed inside to watch her reaction. She started to protest, so I sang her bedtime song. She started protesting again, but quickly did something that told me she was ready to sleep: She got out of bed to explore her closets. I slipped out of her room, and listened to her complain a little more before falling asleep 15 minutes later. Just in time too, because I hadn’t even started the day’s blog post yet.
Last night around 10:30pm, I was doing something I’d prefer not to do that late: Taking care of Abbie. She was fine, no ear infections or monsters hiding under her bed, possibly ready to afflict her ears with infections. She just didn’t want to sleep.
Ordinarily Abbie is an excellent sleeper. After we go through our elaborate bedtime routine, I shut her door and usually don’t open it again until morning. Not that she goes to sleep immediately. Usually I can hear her banging around her room for up to a half-hour after shutting the door before she falls asleep. Sometimes I have to intervene and return her to bed, like when she uses those magical toddler superpowers to levitate up to head-splitting heights and can’t climb back down. Otherwise we let her run around the room, discovering how the closets change when the lights are off, and trust that she’ll eventually wear out and fall into bed.
Last night, she wanted no part of sleep. I should have known we’d have problems when she slept late that morning and took an extra long afternoon nap. I shut her door around 9:30pm like always, and she started complaining almost immediately. When the screaming hit a level of fury suggesting she’d need therapy in her teenage years to overcome her abandonment issues as a toddler, we checked on her to ensure that she didn’t have a genuine need like getting dislodged from whatever precipice she found. Turns out she was just angrily sitting in bed. I gave her a kiss and told her I loved her to calm her down, and left the room.
Ellie and I repeated this process four times over the next 20 minutes, partially because neither of us was sure when or even if the other one checked on her recently. Each time Abbie would calm briefly before returning to a screeching level loud enough to wake the dead, or at least her brothers. Finally, when it was clear the twins couldn’t sleep without drastic measures, Ellie brought out the big gun: Resting with Abbie in her bed. She lay with her in the toddler bed, holding the child close to keep her in bed until her screaming turned into screaming. Ellie stayed with her for ten minutes, succeeding in tamping the screaming down to a general moan, but she hit frantic again almost as soon as Ellie left the room.
I tried to calm her again, but quickly saw that even singing could calm her down. So I let her out of her room. This is the absolute last step in getting her to sleep, letting her run around the house for a few more minutes to wear herself out and reset her approach to dreamland. She did her best to wear herself out by running around the house, chasing the dog, and bouncing on our bed. I gave her a few minutes of exercise before returning her to her room, but each time she screamed shortly after I left the room, and once even woke Tory.
Finally around 10:30pm, after watching her dance in and out of her room for a half-hour, I gave up, shut her in her room, and stayed inside to watch her reaction. She started to protest, so I sang her bedtime song. She started protesting again, but quickly did something that told me she was ready to sleep: She got out of bed to explore her closets. I slipped out of her room, and listened to her complain a little more before falling asleep 15 minutes later. Just in time too, because I hadn’t even started the day’s blog post yet.
posted by Matt at
11:22 PM
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