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Bedtime, Johnny Cash Style

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Bedtime, you’ve been living hell to me.
You’ve busted me ever since this child turned three.
I’ve seen her stall and I’ve seen her cry.
Every night I keep asking why.

Bedtime, I hate every minute of you.
You’ve cut me and you’ve scarred me through and through
And I’ll walk out a wiser, weaker woman;
Little Miss Toddler, you can’t understand.

Bedtime, there is so much good you could do
Do you think she’ll be sleeping when we’re through?
You bend my heart and mind and you warp my soul,
her desperate pleas turn my blood a little cold.

Bedtime, may you rot and burn in hell.
May this child sleep and may I live to tell.
May all the screaming not reach the neighborhood.
And may all my reasoning one day do some good.

Bedtime, I hate every minute of you.

If there is no music running through your head as you read this, click here.

The Stars Turned Off

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For her third birthday, my sister and brother-in-law sent Nora a stuffed turtle nightlight with a hard shell that projects constellations on the walls and ceiling.  It is so cool.  I am completely jealous of Nora’s room.  She has a white noise machine that plays ocean sounds and stars all over her walls.  It’s like a sleep spa in there.

Except she won’t sleep.  She has devised a stalling technique for each phase of her bedtime routine.  She can’t decide whether to read stories or poems.  Once she decides on poems, she pretends her copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends is her laptop, and I’m not allowed to touch it.  She hems and haws about kissing her daddy goodnight.  She claims she does not need to go potty.  Or that she has to poop.  She takes an inordinate amount of time applying toothpaste to her toothbrush.  She keeps me in her room for snuggle time as long as possible.  She needs water. Different socks. More blankets.  One more hug.   When I finally escape, she thrashes around, talking and singing songs.  She calls to us at ten minute intervals.  She wants underwear (she’s already wearing some), she has to go potty again, her socks fell off.  Her stars turned off.

The turtle has a  forty-five minute timer.  This means, from the time she is tucked into bed to the time she yells, “The stars turned off!” she has fought sleep for forty-five minutes.  On Saturday, there were two rounds of no stars.  An hour and a half of bedtime shenanigans.  I’m tired.

How to Push My Buttons: A Toddler’s Manual

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Step 1.  Wake up several times during the night, then take an extra long nap, so you are rested and I am not. (Note: Skipping this step will dramatically reduce desired results.)

Step 2.  Employ any or all of the following techniques:

a. Repeat the same request 700 times after I’ve explained why it’s not possible or must wait.  Example: We are in the car and you say you are thirsty and need a glass of milk.  I say, “Ok, honey, we’re almost home and then I’ll get you some milk.”  This is your cue to chant, “Mommy, I’m thirsty and I want milk, Mommy I’m thirsty and I want milk…”

b. While I am preparing a meal, pull on my clothing and pick your feet off the ground.

c.  Wait until I am collapsed on the sofa, request a cuddle with me, commence squirming. 

d.  While we are reading stories in bed, lay on my right side and when you want a closer look at the book, hoist yourself up and dig your left elbow into my right breast. 

e.  After I’ve taken you potty and tucked you into bed, call to me that you need to go potty again.  Pee a teaspoon.  Repeat.

How I Learned to Stop Caving and Get Out of My Daughter’s Bed

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We ran into a bit of trouble when my daughter moved to a big girl bed.  Namely, there was room in it for me.  When we all got sick last Thanksgiving, I was so sleep deprived, and so tired of tramping down the hall everytime she woke up, that I just crawled in bed with her.  Sleep deprivation breeds desperation; as sleeping with her meant less interruptions to my sleep, I kept doing it.  I told myself that I would just lay down with her until she fell asleep and then go back to my own bed, but I was inevitably so exhausted that I would fall asleep, too.

This was bad for a number of reasons.  I was missing quality time with my husband.  I was letting my daughter be in charge.  I was getting a neckache from a toddler hogging the pillow. 

After our Christmas travels were over, it was time to make the change. I started looking around for answers.  We don’t like the “cry it out” methods, but we were at the end of our rope.  One night, I told her a story about a little girl named Nora who was growing up.  I told her all the things Nora could do by herself now and how one night, her mommy tucked her into bed with all her stuffed animal friends and how Nora sang herself to sleep.  Then I tucked her into bed with all her animal friends and left the room. And she screamed.  And screamed.  And whimpered.  And screamed some more.  My husband re-tucked her.  She settled down.  Then screamed some more.  Finally, she fell asleep.  My husband and I were in tears.  I felt terrible for creating the situation.

That night, I stayed up searching the internet, looking for a better way.  I found something that seemed to be a better fit for our family.  Here’s what we did that finally worked:

Step 1: I followed our normal bedtime routine to the letter;  anticipating any stalling tactics, such as trips to the potty and drinks of water, providing them in advance.

Step 2: As I tucked her in, I explained that she was a big girl and could go to sleep by herself.  I needed to let the dog outside, so I’d come and check on her in a few minutes.

Step 3: In about two minutes, I went back to her room, opened the door and told her she was doing a great job.  I told her I’d come and check on her again in a few more minutes.

Step 4: Repeated Step 3. 

Step 5: Went to my own bed and rejoiced.  She was asleep in less than 10 minutes with no screaming. 

We do this every night, and we’re down to one check back.  This worked for Nora because she wants to be a big girl, but she still wants reassurance that I’m engaged with her and she’s not alone.  Here’s a link to the article I found.  Step eight was the key to our success.  I hope this woman wins a billion dollars.