Sleeping through the Midday
Coaxing Abbie to sleep can be trying. She could be worse, like some of her peers I’ve heard about who demand to climb into mommy and daddy’s bed and/or want a slice of freshly baked chocolate cake before they’ll fall asleep quietly.
She presents some challenges, though, such as her desire to read one more book, say goodnight to one more pet, or grab one more burp cloth. One torn page, two frightened animals, and five burp cloths later, I realize it’s a half-hour past her bedtime. That’s when I shut the door, and then listen to her bang around the room for another half-hour before she finally loses consciousness.
Yesterday afternoon, she put herself down for her nap while I worked in the kitchen. This is a rare but not unprecedented occurrence; whenever she’s out of eyesight in the afternoon and I realize it’s been at least ten minutes since I last heard her scream, I know she’s probably asleep.
Her previous attempts at self-napping have been catastrophic. Since she shares a room with her brothers, we have to disturb her when they nap. No matter how quietly I tiptoe into the room, how gently I change diapers, how gingerly I set the boys in their beds, something always happens. One of the boys will always squawk, grumble, or even mrrph, and Abbie will inevitably stir from slumber a half-hour into her nap, rising and ready to break into the refrigerator just as I’m ready to take my nap.
Life is different now that we’re in our new house, our beautiful new house that’s big enough for Abbie to have a separate room. When I realized Abbie was asleep, I carefully shut her door and hoped for the best while enjoying the rare Abbie-free time with the boys.
Abbie was still asleep when I put the boys down. They mrrphed for a while before drifting off to sleep, but Abbie’s closed bedroom door muffled the noises. As the boys fell asleep, I took my nap. Then I made a snack and dove into the Internet while enjoying the silence from their room.
About 90 minutes after she fell asleep, which happens to be how long her nap is supposed to be, I heard rustling from her room. I opened her door, and out came a pleasant little girl, not the dervish screaming for supper I usually experience after her nap. I gave her a snack, turned on Dora, and enjoyed the rare boy-free time with Abbie.
Now that she’s three-years-old, this attitude might be sinking into her. At the end of tonight’s nighttime routine, I set the boys into bed while Abbie left their room, shutting the door behind her. I walked out, expecting to find her in the house’s furthest recesses, recesses that also happen to contain animal crackers. Instead, I heard rustling behind the closed door to her room across the hall. I opened the door to find Abbie in the dark. She was playing with a toy instead of sleep, but she at least went to bed on her own. I could get used to this.
She presents some challenges, though, such as her desire to read one more book, say goodnight to one more pet, or grab one more burp cloth. One torn page, two frightened animals, and five burp cloths later, I realize it’s a half-hour past her bedtime. That’s when I shut the door, and then listen to her bang around the room for another half-hour before she finally loses consciousness.
Yesterday afternoon, she put herself down for her nap while I worked in the kitchen. This is a rare but not unprecedented occurrence; whenever she’s out of eyesight in the afternoon and I realize it’s been at least ten minutes since I last heard her scream, I know she’s probably asleep.
Her previous attempts at self-napping have been catastrophic. Since she shares a room with her brothers, we have to disturb her when they nap. No matter how quietly I tiptoe into the room, how gently I change diapers, how gingerly I set the boys in their beds, something always happens. One of the boys will always squawk, grumble, or even mrrph, and Abbie will inevitably stir from slumber a half-hour into her nap, rising and ready to break into the refrigerator just as I’m ready to take my nap.
Life is different now that we’re in our new house, our beautiful new house that’s big enough for Abbie to have a separate room. When I realized Abbie was asleep, I carefully shut her door and hoped for the best while enjoying the rare Abbie-free time with the boys.
Abbie was still asleep when I put the boys down. They mrrphed for a while before drifting off to sleep, but Abbie’s closed bedroom door muffled the noises. As the boys fell asleep, I took my nap. Then I made a snack and dove into the Internet while enjoying the silence from their room.
About 90 minutes after she fell asleep, which happens to be how long her nap is supposed to be, I heard rustling from her room. I opened her door, and out came a pleasant little girl, not the dervish screaming for supper I usually experience after her nap. I gave her a snack, turned on Dora, and enjoyed the rare boy-free time with Abbie.
Now that she’s three-years-old, this attitude might be sinking into her. At the end of tonight’s nighttime routine, I set the boys into bed while Abbie left their room, shutting the door behind her. I walked out, expecting to find her in the house’s furthest recesses, recesses that also happen to contain animal crackers. Instead, I heard rustling behind the closed door to her room across the hall. I opened the door to find Abbie in the dark. She was playing with a toy instead of sleep, but she at least went to bed on her own. I could get used to this.
posted by Matt at
11:53 PM
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