Lake has a hot/cold relationship with bedtime. Sometimes he’s an angel climbing up into bed and wishing us goodnight and reading himself to sleep. He can be sensible and funny. Sometimes he’s overtired and gets into a stupor: whining and winging, groaning or downright tantruming. Getting greedy and running bedtime early usually results in spending all the time it was hoped to gain with him sitting half-covered in bed, chatting and reading, often eventually breaking down anyway.
Tonight he was in-between, lukewarm, and Michael had a nice conversation with him. He asked him, “do you know about bedtime? do you know what bedtime is?
“Bedtime is when everyone gets all the things they need for bedtime. Momma gets her things. Lake gets his things. And then they’re set to sleep comfortably. What do you need to sleep?”
Lake asked: “Is Momma tired?” “Yes and, incidentally, Dadums is tired too.”
After organizing the various bears required for comfort, he settled in peaceably.
Though all this didn’t prevent moaning from creeping forth from his room twenty minutes later.
Finally we got him a book, and after it hit him in the head he was able to be engaged with the encouragement that he could be very proud of himself for putting himself to sleep by reading to himself after we read and sang and played together. And Lake thus engrossed, the parents went peacefully to sleep with thoughts of sugar plum fairies dancing in our heads and the sound of mournful Mama/Mami cries drifting down the hall.
And then we awoke, played and read books, went to work, played and sang and danced, made squash soup for dinner, and listened to Christmas music while trimming the tree.
We had a grand time, and again it was Bedtime. Back to Top.