Some nights, especially recently, the kids struggle against bedtime. All is well through baths and jammies, through bedtime stories and SQUIRT (silent reading) time. But at lights out, all manner of ills fall: the blanket is cattywampus; the light is too bright; a bug bite emerges; a leg aches; a funny or loud noise is heard; the door is open; the door is shut. Last night, Sis's nose stung.
I've noticed that these nights now tend to coincide with Mama's working late. I think they are staying up until she comes home. Indeed, last night, Sis directly asked when that would be. Alas, it was close on 10 p.m. and, yes, they were both still awake. I had given up trying last night--it does no good to yell or cajole, though sometimes it is very tempting and I have succumbed. By 8 p.m., I am ready for them to be in bed; by 10 p.m., I'm quite beside myself. Now, though I close my door and do what I will.
There was a funny new excuse last night: the cat had used the litter box and Bud came down complaining of the smell. See, his room was the "cat room" and it's conversion into a bedroom is incomplete--the litter box is still in there. Well, I think the cats are not too fond of their new roommate, much less being usurped. They aren't covering their waste anymore! Once Mama came home and I got it all cleaned up (because, yes, it would keep me up, too), Bud went back to bed. And eventually, they were both asleep.
I wonder what the next new excuses will be?
Showing posts with label bedtime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bedtime. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Friday, February 1, 2013
A Magical Journey
We had just finished reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and I was casting about for a new book to read. We tried Tom Sawyer, but the language was too regional and they couldn't follow all the dialogue. I didn't want another fantasy novel back-to-back with Lewis's masterpiece but nothing we had on hand--Indian in the Cupboard, various Beverly Cleary books, other titles I can't recall right now--felt right.
Coincidentally, I had recently been exploring the art of storytelling. While reading Katrina Kennison's Mitten Strings of God, a reflective piece on mothering which I would recommend for those inclined, I came across the works of Nancy Mellon, master storyteller. Her Storytelling and Children preached to the choir about the importance of stories and the parent-child bond during storytelling; her Storytelling and the Art of Imagination laid out the details of story as soul medicine (almost to the esoteric realm with her focus on humours and healing) but also the symbolism (doors, huts, seeds, underground) and structure of traditional (exclusively European) tales.
Thus, in our book in-between time, it dawned on me to tell them a story. When they had been very young, I'd told them tales of Sis and Bud Dragon who lived near a medieval-ly village and had adventures; they can't possible remember those, but Mama and I enjoyed them. Why is the fantasy realm always medieval-ish? Must be all of those European fairy tales. Our current story started with the oldest house in Connecticut, where two twins had moved; exploring the house on a rainy day they find a chest--like the 18th-century one I bought at the neighbor's tag sale--and fall through it to a new land. Funny where you get your inspiration. In my mind, the house is the stone Henry Whitfield house we visited last year. The entry into the other world from within the house is Narnian but also familiar to us from the Droon series, with the basement stairs to another world. And the creatures and adventures they encounter in that other world are inspired by The Never-ending Story, the Redwall books, fairy stories, Lord of the Rings, the Merlin stories, and others I probably don't even realize.
Some of Mellon's (regrettably slight) discussion of structure has stuck with me: the narrative encompassing a protagonist, an opposition or challenge (often a quest or journey), helpers, more opposition and impediments alternating with helpers until there is resolution, well-being, unity, the proverbial happy ending (and she tells feminists not to sweat all the weddings!); the ideas of adventures in threes, fours, or twelves; the passing of the seasons; geographical variety from sea to mountains to forest to dessert; the appearance of the four elements of earth, air, water, and fire (we're adding the fifth element, in Chinese lore, metal).
After four installments, we are hooked. Every morning Bud illustrates the previous night's chapter for a book he's making. And they both spend the day and night making suggestions. They suggests the flavors the characters drink from the magical water; they came up with the talking fire.
We did have to discuss that they are not the characters in the story specifically, which arose during a part when the boy suffered a temporary blindness. We talked about how protagonists have to undergo trials before they can succeed. It's not exactly Bruno Bettelheim's advocacy of danger and violence as teaching tools in tales, but it's not Disney either; maybe more Sondheim's Into the Woods. But Bud is looking forward to hearing what happens to Sis's doppelganger! And they make sure I balance out dialogue, adventures, and even gifts (she has the magic canteen of water and the firestarter; he has the magic compass always pointing them in the right direction--which means he needs something else!)
Each evening before we start, I panic a bit that I won't have anything for them, that they won't like the installation. But between their enthusiasm, my bare outline from Mellon, and my own joy in it, the story comes and the only complaint has been that one night's story was too short.
I wonder what will happen tonight? Once upon a time, remember or imagine . . . .
Coincidentally, I had recently been exploring the art of storytelling. While reading Katrina Kennison's Mitten Strings of God, a reflective piece on mothering which I would recommend for those inclined, I came across the works of Nancy Mellon, master storyteller. Her Storytelling and Children preached to the choir about the importance of stories and the parent-child bond during storytelling; her Storytelling and the Art of Imagination laid out the details of story as soul medicine (almost to the esoteric realm with her focus on humours and healing) but also the symbolism (doors, huts, seeds, underground) and structure of traditional (exclusively European) tales.
Thus, in our book in-between time, it dawned on me to tell them a story. When they had been very young, I'd told them tales of Sis and Bud Dragon who lived near a medieval-ly village and had adventures; they can't possible remember those, but Mama and I enjoyed them. Why is the fantasy realm always medieval-ish? Must be all of those European fairy tales. Our current story started with the oldest house in Connecticut, where two twins had moved; exploring the house on a rainy day they find a chest--like the 18th-century one I bought at the neighbor's tag sale--and fall through it to a new land. Funny where you get your inspiration. In my mind, the house is the stone Henry Whitfield house we visited last year. The entry into the other world from within the house is Narnian but also familiar to us from the Droon series, with the basement stairs to another world. And the creatures and adventures they encounter in that other world are inspired by The Never-ending Story, the Redwall books, fairy stories, Lord of the Rings, the Merlin stories, and others I probably don't even realize.
Some of Mellon's (regrettably slight) discussion of structure has stuck with me: the narrative encompassing a protagonist, an opposition or challenge (often a quest or journey), helpers, more opposition and impediments alternating with helpers until there is resolution, well-being, unity, the proverbial happy ending (and she tells feminists not to sweat all the weddings!); the ideas of adventures in threes, fours, or twelves; the passing of the seasons; geographical variety from sea to mountains to forest to dessert; the appearance of the four elements of earth, air, water, and fire (we're adding the fifth element, in Chinese lore, metal).
After four installments, we are hooked. Every morning Bud illustrates the previous night's chapter for a book he's making. And they both spend the day and night making suggestions. They suggests the flavors the characters drink from the magical water; they came up with the talking fire.
We did have to discuss that they are not the characters in the story specifically, which arose during a part when the boy suffered a temporary blindness. We talked about how protagonists have to undergo trials before they can succeed. It's not exactly Bruno Bettelheim's advocacy of danger and violence as teaching tools in tales, but it's not Disney either; maybe more Sondheim's Into the Woods. But Bud is looking forward to hearing what happens to Sis's doppelganger! And they make sure I balance out dialogue, adventures, and even gifts (she has the magic canteen of water and the firestarter; he has the magic compass always pointing them in the right direction--which means he needs something else!)
Each evening before we start, I panic a bit that I won't have anything for them, that they won't like the installation. But between their enthusiasm, my bare outline from Mellon, and my own joy in it, the story comes and the only complaint has been that one night's story was too short.
I wonder what will happen tonight? Once upon a time, remember or imagine . . . .
Friday, May 25, 2012
Too Much of a Good Thing
It's kinda like that part in every job interview where they ask you about your weaknesses and you come up with one of those "good" flaws, like work too hard/long, perfectionism, etc., trying to show off to your potential new employer while you both know it's not really a flaw in the same way always late, lazy, doesn't return calls/email, might be.
But still: Bud and Sis are reading too much.
They both stay up way past SQUIRT time is over, indicated by their clock turning blue. Sometimes we even have to go in more than once to remind them to put the books down.
If they wake in the middle of the night for anything less than a nightmare, they will turn on their lamps and read some.
And Bud even wakes up early, before 6 a.m., to continue his reading!
Which means, with everything else the same, they're losing some sleep each night. You'd think we didn't let them read any other time! Except they do read--in the times between finishing getting dressed and eating breakfast, eating breakfast and getting out to the bus, sometimes even on the bus, at school, and then oftentimes right after school and before dinner!!!
No wonder they're going through about 10 books, mostly actual chapter books, per kid a week from the library. (And, yes, we're usually book buyers but who wants to pay for all that? Especially because most of them are "twinkies" they'll never read again.) Sometimes it's more than one a day.
And they've got the circles under their eyes to prove it.
We even stockpile paper bookmarks because they sometimes have more than one book going at a time and we used to run out of our nice ones; more than that, the bookmarks would get left in the library books.
But just as I've read that you're not supposed to wake a sleeping baby (okay, I did that), you shouldn't interrupt a reading child.
Because, I suppose, even not in moderation, it's a very good problem to have.
But still: Bud and Sis are reading too much.
They both stay up way past SQUIRT time is over, indicated by their clock turning blue. Sometimes we even have to go in more than once to remind them to put the books down.
If they wake in the middle of the night for anything less than a nightmare, they will turn on their lamps and read some.
And Bud even wakes up early, before 6 a.m., to continue his reading!
Which means, with everything else the same, they're losing some sleep each night. You'd think we didn't let them read any other time! Except they do read--in the times between finishing getting dressed and eating breakfast, eating breakfast and getting out to the bus, sometimes even on the bus, at school, and then oftentimes right after school and before dinner!!!
No wonder they're going through about 10 books, mostly actual chapter books, per kid a week from the library. (And, yes, we're usually book buyers but who wants to pay for all that? Especially because most of them are "twinkies" they'll never read again.) Sometimes it's more than one a day.
And they've got the circles under their eyes to prove it.
We even stockpile paper bookmarks because they sometimes have more than one book going at a time and we used to run out of our nice ones; more than that, the bookmarks would get left in the library books.
But just as I've read that you're not supposed to wake a sleeping baby (okay, I did that), you shouldn't interrupt a reading child.
Because, I suppose, even not in moderation, it's a very good problem to have.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Pizza Picnic
Okay, so pizza delivery is not the standard picnic food, but we made the most of it, on the floor of the living room no less.
Followed up by a "Phineas and Ferb" movie marathon before bedtime.
Sometimes, abandoning the routine is just the ticket.
Followed up by a "Phineas and Ferb" movie marathon before bedtime.
Sometimes, abandoning the routine is just the ticket.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sounds of Snoring
Mama is working late tonight and so I've got "Basilisk watch," meaning I'm the adult on the second floor whose imperative it is to ward off any Harry Potter-esque giant snakes that might come get the kids. Bud specifically is still very upset about the end of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and proves that he is just 6 1/2 by holding two completely contradictory notions in his head: the HP books are a work of fiction by J.K. Rowling, whose picture we have shown him, and the books are real and the snake is coming (even if this overlooks the fact that Harry killed the snake at the end). Mercy, I don't think he was this upset about Voldemort. But fears aren't rational so Mama and I have been taking turns being in the next room as they fall asleep. An easy solution.
And from the sawing next door, one that is working very well.
And from the sawing next door, one that is working very well.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
My Amazin' Babies
It's been a
week of "Mommy chooses the bedtime books." Which means, instead of reading yet more Arthur or Bearnstain Bears or Star Wars books, I choose what we haven't read in awhile and/or what I like to read. I like books with pleasing picture, flowing text, and thoughtful or interesting narrative.
Last night, I chose board books from their early and mid babyhood, nostalgia on my part as I've been thinking a lot on those baby days since the birth of Cousin Hungry. So I read I Kissed the Baby, a striking black-and-white board book with a sing-song narrative (at least the way I read it), Star Baby (even more poetic, as it walks you through Baby's day), and The Napping House, which repetitive refrain and amusing pictures soothes. The kids liked hearing the stories, not remembering any of them, but especially liked that I pointed out that I Kissed the Baby was missing a corner--where they had eaten it! They thought that was hilarious.
And then Bud read it back to me.
Yep, read. Sure, it was fresh in his mind because I'd just read it and it is easy, but he spotted his sight words and sounded out several of the others. And then he even mimicked my vocal patterns! I was so proud, so amazed. Then, Sis picked up The Napping House, a harder book with more text, and also started to read it. Again, not all of it, and surely some of it from memory, but I could hear the difference: she was reading. And they both kept at it and we delayed bedtime so we could all bask in this new-found, hard won accomplishment.
And then I went out in the hallway and cried. Tears of pride, joy, maybe even more nostalgia . . . .
And of course I kissed the babies! Even though they clearly aren't babies anymore.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
It's a New Night
We have two new changes in our nighttime routine that, while seemingly simple, are having huge effects on our evenings.
First, we're having dinner together. Until Monday night, the kids and I would eat around 5:30 or so, with Mama getting home after 6:15-6:30 p.m., thereby missing dinner. But because the kids are staying up until 7:30 now, we realized that we could push dinner back just enough so that Mama could join us. Last night was our first official weekday dinner together. Sure, my timing was off because I started cooking too early and, yep, the kids were very hungry by dinnertime despite our concerted effort to have a real snack late in the day. But we all sat down together at 6:15 p.m., sang our family song (which we hadn't done in so long that I'd forgotten how it started), and then ate. Which means the kids got to spend quality time with Mama (because the house had already been cleaned and we could just eat and talk), Mama got to eat her meal hot when she was hungry (instead of an hour or so late), and I got some adult company for my last meal (instead of choosing with whom to eat, or worse, snacking on whatever with both). Big, positive change. And they even liked my first batch of homemade meatballs. (I can tell it's going to change the way I plan meals, but that will be a later post).
Secondly, we've totally altered how we handle getting ready for bed, which has always been the one occasion that causes stress in the house on a regular basis. The kids dawdle getting dressed, keep playing, act silly, refuse to accomplish teeth-brushing and final potty stops, all around frustrate our efforts to get them settled down for stories, which then makes Mama and I quite peevish. It's just not pretty. So now, we come upstairs, light the magic clock "green," at which point it stays green for 30 minutes. In that time they have to do everything they are supposed to so we can read stories. When the clock turns blue at the end of 30 minutes, we finish whatever book we are reading and tuck them in. If they hurry through all the clothes changing and teeth-brushing, they can get almost a full 25 minutes of reading. If they dawdle or refuse, and the clock turns blue, no books. Mama and I don't get involved--don't cajole, argue, insist, or yell--we simply monitor to make sure everything gets done. They are in control. So far, they have rushed to be ready and get as many books as possible, which means they are each getting 5-8 books read to them every night. And no one gets tense. I love that magic clock!
Unfortunately, all this is on hold for tonight because Mama has a late meeting and won't be home in time for dinner or bed.
-=-=-=-=-=
Homemade Turkey Meatballs
1 lb ground turkey
1 egg
1/3 -1/2 cup seasoned Italian breadcrumbs (or, if using plain, add salt, pepper and spices)
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 350F. Combine ingredients and shape into balls. Place on cookie sheet (preferrably lined with foil) and bake for 25-30 minutes or until centers are no longer pink.
I might consider adding an extra egg and about 1/4 cup minced onion next time, for more moisture, as ground turkey is so dry.
Mommy Hungry
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Reading Rituals
Like many bedtime rituals, our includes storytime. Each child gets two stories, their pick. They usually repeat the same couple for a few nights and then switch. Right now, Bud is hooked on Drummer Hoff and whatever else. Sis chose two "new" ones tonight, i.e. ones we haven't read in a few weeks, including Bedtime for Frances and Tell Me Something Happy Before I Go to Sleep, a perennial household favorite.
And it occurred to me while reading Frances, as it has occurred to me while reading several other books: is it sacrilege to alter the gender of the parents of the character if that is unimportant to the main gist of the story? In this one, Frances keeps coming up with new ruses to avoid going to sleep, with her Mother and Father Badger frustrating all her attempts. But they're animals, not even in clothes, and Sis would never know they weren't a Mommy and Mama Badger, at least until she can read. There are so few good books for preschoolers with two mommy characters (esp ones that don't whack you over the head with it and Heather Has Two Mommies is too old for us yet) and there are great books with fathers; besides, if you only read books without dads, you would a). run out of stories pretty quickly and b). miss some greats of children's literature. But, in most cases, it's not the gender of the parent that makes the book great (especially because animals are relatively androgynous). What generally keeps me from just changing the pronouns and names? Honesty? Fidelity to the written word? Inattentiveness? Acceptance of the reality that most families and most of popular culture includes a mother and a father? Hey, you dads out there, do you read books about mommies and change the gender? Especially if there isn't a mommy in the family?
What would you do?
Friday, April 10, 2009
Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?
If it's 6:30 p.m., at my house, my kids are in bed. Asleep.
Sound asleep. No talking, not tossing. Just snoring.
Yep.
6:30 p.m.
It's crazy. But they have switched back to their old bedtime, the one they've pretty much had, with the exception of a few weeks on either side of a time change as they somehow subconsciously know that a switch is coming, since they were babes. We'd tried to hold them to 7:30 right after the time change, and it worked for a bit. But they kept getting up earlier and earlier, until they were only getting 11 hours of sleep. NOT enough. So, we gave in and moved bedtime back to 6:30 so they can sleep a full 12 hours before they wake at 6:30 a.m. I still wish they'd get a little more. Or sleep in a little later. But I work with what I've got.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Just about the Sweetest Thing Ever
A few mornings ago when I went in to get DS out of bed, for he had been talking awhile and I didn't want him to wake DD before her time, I came in to find him gently placing one of his loveys--a variety of solid-color, terrycloth washcloths, some with stripes, some without (right now his favorites are dark blue with white stripes and light green with white stripes)--on his stuffed Snuffaluffagus. He insisted on picking up Snuffy-cum-lovey to go downstairs with us.
Just now (and it's about an hour after tuck-in), we heard him ask for his Diego pillow on the monitor. We'd removed it last night around 3 a.m. because he'd gotten it wedge in a funny position and was upset, so it slept in our room. I went upstairs to check on him and get the pillow, only to find that he had arranged all his stuffies in a semi-circle around himself and was lovingly tucking them in and covering them with his loveys. I gave him a few more loveys, noticing he was short, and he'd say, "here's a lovey for moonbeam bear," and he'd pat him. Then he covered the Diego picture on his pillowcase. And began to cover the frog faces on his footie jammies. DP was with me (since she knew where we'd stashed the Diego pillow) and helped him lie back and then covered him with loveys.
Just about the sweetest thing ever.
We'd always wondered what he was doing when we could hear him mumbling after bedtime. I thought he was reviewing his day. Maybe he does sometimes. But this lovey-thing is sweet.
Even if he's still awake.
Just now (and it's about an hour after tuck-in), we heard him ask for his Diego pillow on the monitor. We'd removed it last night around 3 a.m. because he'd gotten it wedge in a funny position and was upset, so it slept in our room. I went upstairs to check on him and get the pillow, only to find that he had arranged all his stuffies in a semi-circle around himself and was lovingly tucking them in and covering them with his loveys. I gave him a few more loveys, noticing he was short, and he'd say, "here's a lovey for moonbeam bear," and he'd pat him. Then he covered the Diego picture on his pillowcase. And began to cover the frog faces on his footie jammies. DP was with me (since she knew where we'd stashed the Diego pillow) and helped him lie back and then covered him with loveys.
Just about the sweetest thing ever.
We'd always wondered what he was doing when we could hear him mumbling after bedtime. I thought he was reviewing his day. Maybe he does sometimes. But this lovey-thing is sweet.
Even if he's still awake.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)