The Great Camp Out

I survived 13 girls and some siblings (including Bud) in the woods on Friday night.  And they survived the woods!  I know it was the first outside sleepover in the woods for my two and some of the others as well.  It was great.

We arrived around 5 pm and hauled our sleeping bags and stuff up the hill to the campsite; there was a single, big platform tent for the troop downhill from the campfire and several lean-tos for the boys above the campfire.  I actually slept in a lean-to myself, since the big tent was pretty full and the lean-to was easier to sleep in.

But sleep was a long way off.

We made pizza first, with the girls mixing and kneading their dough by hand.  They even wandered the lovely herb garden to find toppings for their pizzas.  "I can't believe we can just pick leaves and eat them!" one said, as they sampled sorrel, onion chives, garlic chives, lemon balm, sage, basil, cherry tomatoes, kale, and other things.  The pizzas were pretty good.  Well, Bud thought it was dough-y but loved all the herbs; Sis got to make hers with no sauce, just cheese.

Next we lit the campfire, which I tended while they went on an extended night hike (the whole event was for their Night Owl badges.)  They had a very exciting time--climbing rocks, watching for wildlife, gazing out at the city below--maybe too exciting, since they were near a tall cliff!   The hike was Sis and Bud's favorite part.  I sat meditating by the fire, listening to the symphony of the forest, and making and eating by myself the best s'more ever.  I only missed hearing any owls.



The kids returned all full of stories and inhaled their s'mores.   We then all shared our experiences with wildlife--turkeys in the yard, hawks on the wing, a bear on the road.  The woman in charge of our group, an outdoorsy woman with shorn hair and an impish smile, told of a deer jumping over her one night as she slept by the fire.  She loves kids, you could tell, and talked straight to them.  (And all the leaders giggled when she made one of our precious snowflakes pick food out of the garbage can for the compost bin and another return a wheelbarrow she had tried to avoid putting back!!!)  And most of them liked her (except a few snowflakes.)

And we sang around the fire--"Baby Shark," "Bear Hunt," my favorite "Barges," "Linger," "On the Loose," and "Taps."  Such a lovely time.

And then there was no sleep.  I could hear the girls all the way up the hill until around 3.  I think Bud fell asleep despite it all.

Then the coyotes started around 4 a.m.  Bud heard them, too.

But I missed the owls hooting at 5 a.m., apparently.

And we were up at 6 a.m. by the fire to warm up.  I had actually been relatively comfortable in my bag, even with the chilly mist--I thought it was great sleeping weather; everyone else was cold.  I loved watching the full harvest moon through the trees and the flicker of the waning fire.  The sound of the girls and the insects and even traffic in the distance were comforting.

For breakfast, the girls gathered eggs in the chicken coop and picked some more herbs.  They also admired the sheep and ducks.  And their parents soon arrived to take them home.

It had been a great camping trip.

And I napped three hours that afternoon.

-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Linger"

Hmmm, I want to linger.
Hmmm, A little longer.
Hmmm, A little longer,
Here with you.

Hmmm, It's such a perfect night.
Hmmm, It doesn't seem quite right.
Hmmm, That this should be,
My last with you.

Hmmm, And come September,
Hmmm, I will remember,
Hmmm, Our Scouting days,
Of friendships true.

Hmmm, And as the years go by,
Hmmm, I'll think of you and sigh.
Hmmm, This is good night
And not good bye.

Hmmm I want to linger.
Hmmm A little longer.
Hmmm A little longer,
Here with you.

"On the Loose"

Have you ever seen the sunrise turn the sky completely red?
Have you slept beneath the moon and stars with a pine bough for your head?
Have you sat and talked with friends, though a word was never said?
Then you're like me and you've been on the loose.

Chorus:
On the loose to climb a mountain,
On the loose where I am free.
On the loose to live my life,
The way I think my life should be.
For I've only got a moment,
And a whole world yet to see,
And I'll be searching for tomorrow, on the loose.

There's a trail that I'll be hiking
Just to see where it might go.
Many places yet to visit,
Many people yet to know.
And in following my dreams,
I will live and I will grow,
On a trail that's out there waiting, on the loose.

Chorus

So in search of love and laughter,
I'll be travelling through this land.
Never sure of where I'm going,
For I haven't any plans.
But in time when you are ready,
Come and join me, take my hand.
And together we'll find life,
Out on the loose!

Chorus

Sleepless not in Seattle

I had a sleep study Friday night (I thought this had posted, but it hadn't), after talking to my GP about snoring and sleepiness.  And so I went to a local hotel in the late evening and was hooked up to all sorts of wires and gadgets and told to fall asleep!  And it had to be on the "wrong" side of the bed because of where the video camera was.  The tech was very nice and I was all a-yawn as she got me hooked up.

But I didn't sleep.  Or definitely not well.  Within an hour or two, I awoke extremely warm and never really fell fully asleep again (it doesn't help that I had to sleep in pants!), or did in short spurts between the hours.  To the point that, in the morning, the tech said she felt sorry for me--"Was it that bad?"--and hoped I got to go home to nap.

Anyway, if I had to guess, I don't have apnea.  She said that if there were such signs she'd run a secondary test with a C-pap or whatever it's called.  And she never did.  Which doesn't totally surprise me as I don't have the restless legs or gasping for breath that is common.

Just sleepiness and snoring and lots of rolling over (ever since my first back injury, I wake to flip over carefully several times a night) and nightsweats.  Which made me wonder if recent troubles (I've snored at least since college but haven't had this level of sleepiness before--I'm in bed 9+ hours and still fall asleep in the afternoon if the kids watch tv) aren't at least partially because of hormones.

Anyway, it'll take 2-3 weeks to get the results.  Until then I'm very glad to be back in my own bed.

Some Nights

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?

The Time-Change Still Stinks

ERRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

The kids are staying awake until 9:30 p.m. plus every evening.  Even with a 7:30-8:00 p.m. in-bed time (then some reading).  Even with a 7:20 a.m. ish wake up.   Even when they run around and exhaust themselves during the day.  Even without any screen time during the school week.

I can't stand the time change.  It messes with everyone's sleep (and has for a long, long time.)

Summer Fun: Twinsleep

On Wednesday, Sis relished being the only child at home while Bud was at kung fu team.  She even went to bed early so his "talk talk talk talk talking" wouldn't keep her awake.  I said that if it really bothered her she could have her own room.  Her reply, "But how would I sleep without him?"  But Friday night, she couldn't even get in bed without his coming home from team first.  In fact, she spent most of the approximately 3 hours we had together wondering when he'd get here.  Because they've only slept apart maybe 3 nights (all that first week when he was in the NICU) in 2,555 days!

Sleepless in Connecticut

The kids are sleep-deprived.  Instead of their usual 11 hours, they've been getting more like 9 since at least the weekend.  Not through our lack of trying--early bedtimes, silenced alarm clocks, --but they are excited and exhausted.

Tonight, awake more than an hour after bedtime, Sis explained, "My body is full of action!"

The Extra Hour

The "extra hour" of sleep at the end of Daylight Savings Time is a myth at our house.

First graders don't know to sleep in when their usual wake-up time goes from 7 am to 6 am literally overnight.  "Sleeping in" holds no appeal for them.

Which means there were kids playing Legos downstairs at 6:01 am today.

Not Night-Night

As you might have gathered, Mama and I are pretty strict when it comes to bedtime.  Without fail, barrring the rarity of special social outings or family events, the kids are in bed by 7:30 p.m..  A church supper or school movie starts at 7?  Not gonna go.  We've even been known to skip bathing and shorten stories to get in bed on time.  This bedtime obsession stems from our firm belief, drawn from experience, that getting a full night's sleep is the most important thing for our kids on a daily basis.  They can compensate for mediocre meals or a skipped bath, cope with not getting outside playtime or rushing through homework, or any other parenting failure/lapse/oversight/laziness once in a while.  But if they don't get enough sleep, they don't function well.  For days. It's immediate and absolute.  They're crabby and argumentative, lose focus and creativity, are prone to injury and tears and illness.  Few evenings of fun are worth that price, especially as we read about studies showing the loss of IQ points after weekend sleep shifts and the negative effects of not enough (like the whole phenomenon of modern teenagerhood).   We all have our things; this is ours.

Which is why I'm amazed that there is now a nighttime television show for kids.  By Jim Henson's company, no less.  Called "Pajanimals," the  show is intended to help little kids go to sleep.  Seriously?  I know adults will nod off to the late night shows, but have you ever seen a child fall asleep watching tv?  Ever?  Not me.  They fight sleep, prop their own eyes open, kick themselves black and blue to stay awake--it's happened here at rest time on numerous occasions.

Anyway, in full disclosure, I haven't seen the show at all and will not be screening it for Sis and Bud.  But I loved the review in the NYTimes, which focused on one line in one episode of the show--"Blankie will be safe with Mom."  If you have a child with a blankie, had a blankie yourself, are a mom, or even just have a mom, go read the review for a wonderful laugh.  I promise it won't put you to sleep.

(Note to my own mom, who did throw away one of my childhood blankies:  I'm not rubbing salt in that guilty wound on purpose!  But my second childhood blankie is safe under my bed . . . . )

Mornin'

Wakefulness came to me at 3 am and never let up.  But I didn't exactly rise and shine.  I read eulogies (and some not-so-eulogies) on Steve Jobs while contemplating praises for "changing the world" and making technology merge with art and life and encouraging thinking outside the proverbial box, and damnations for perceived lack of philanthropy and humanitarianism, appalling Chinese labor practices by Apple affiliates, and creating "useless" gadgets for the privileged upper classes; mentally reorganized my cookbook project; had a few brilliant household ideas I can't recall; wrote some email at 4 a.m.; and tried to meditate to no avail.  Even the cats and Mama were sleeping!  Oh, well.  The doctor said the injections would make me edgy like drinking too much coffee.

The day dawned beautiful, with cool breeze and full sun (and 47F).  The kids and Mama are off to their respective places.  The cats and I are here in ours.

I've got some volunteer work for the historic house and Girl Scouts today, plus several books and magazines.

Otherwise, I'm going to try to take a nap at some point!

And not have any coffee.

Breakin' the Rules

I broke the rules the other night.

For the first time.

Well, for this rule anyway: the kids sleep in their beds, not ours.

The other night, we were all having nightmares. All except Mama, that is, who was so hopped up on cold medicine that she didn't notice that there were two extra, squirmy people in the bed. I don't know what was in the water--and it wasn't a full moon--but I'd been up about half an hour reading, alternately, the entertainment pages of Huffpost and WebMD, when Bud and then Sis came into the room upset from bad dreams.

It was 3:30 a.m. And I think I needed a better diversion than my 'droid. I could also be useful and comforting. So I encouraged them to crawl into bed and cuddle up, one in front and one in back, both clinging, arms everywhere, hands in my hair and on my neck and over my chest.

How does anyone sleep like that?

I certainly didn't.

Probably because it was the first time for us all to sleep together, I was intrigued with the changes in their breathing, the flutterings of their eyelids, the small movements of their hands. It certainly was distracting. But not sleep-inducing. We rarely co-slept when they were babies (no judgments here--do what works for your family), mainly from a fear of rolling over them in our exhaustion and a desire to get as much sleep as we could between feedings every 45 minutes or so (when we were doing it on demand and they were on different schedules; we gave that up pretty quickly!). And even from a desire to retain the bed as our space from our pre-baby lives. But mainly for that first reason. Then as time passed, we kept the rule, for those other reasons plus a hope that they would be comfortable in their own beds, able to go back to sleep on their own. And it was never much of an issue. They easily go back to bed after nightmares or noises, with a quick kiss and a tuck-in. We're all generally happy with the arrangements.

But for that night last week, and for any subsequent ones when the need arises, I imagine I'll say yes again.

And maybe even get some sleep.

Rise and Shine

I didn't go back to sleep. Instead I migrated downstairs, wrapped in my long fleece because the cool morning air was barely 60F, and made myself a cup of tea. Drinking that and eating a piece of sunflower butter toast, I read Lonesome Dove. The Hat Creek band is just about to set out for "Montany" and Gus is sorry to be leaving his sourdough, just as it has hit its prime.

Mmmmm, sourdough. At 5:15, there is plenty of time to put out a cup of starter to warm up in time for breakfast biscuits. Which is exactly what I did. Then for two hours, I read my book until the house started to stir. In fact, it was a relatively calm and relaxing way to start the day, with a little bit of peace and solitude. I don't particularly recommend insomnia--I'm going to be suffering later on only 4 1/2 hours of sleep--but it does at times have its upside (which I believe some of the recent essays on sleeplessness in the NYTimes pointed out; I'm remembering the woman who would reminisce while baking brownies in the middle of the night. I wouldn't want to make a habit of it, either the lack of sleep or the daily biscuits, though. Not too healthy.).

The biscuits are now in the oven, getting plump and eventually golden. In a little while, we'll all gather around the table to tear apart their warm goodness and lather them with butter and honey, perhaps a new family ritual. A pretty good way to begin the day.

I guess the sourdough can start more than biscuits.

Midnight Oil

At what point does it not make any sense to pretend or even try to be asleep anymore?

I haven't been sleeping well. And in some ways, that's been a good thing: I think my waking up to flip over (and move my myriad of supportive pillows) or go to the bathroom keep my back from becoming incredibly stiff overnight. I don't know if it is mental anxiety about my back waking me up or physical strain from not moving/sleeping for stretches at a time (I do always wake up more tight than I go to bed), or something else, but I've seen almost every hour this week and my back isn't as loose as that would imply! Tonight alone, after going to bed at 10:45 ish, I saw midnight and 1 and have now, at 5 with light breaking and birds singing, been up for more than 2 hours. I have ruminated on everything under the sun, not even essentially stressful things--like, um, Kagan's nomination and the make-up of the Supreme Court, plus that recent article on the demise of White Protestantism and how that can be viewed as a meritocratic success. So not miserable, just awake. And I think I'm up for the day. The cats have stirred and the kids will be up in less than 2 hours. I'm not even sure I could make myself go to sleep by then if I wanted to. Well, though, I would want to.

Hope you're not reading this "real-time," except maybe you, Lambeth, as it's, what 11:15 am where you are. Maybe my body is telling me I need to move to England or something . . .

Science Experiment

I think I'm living in some kind of perverse science experiment over here: how many hours can kids knock off their nighttime sleep total and still function?

Right now, they're at 3 hours less, if "functioning" means only crying or breaking down once every few hours, which I guess it does, but it's hell all the same.

We put them to bed at 7:15 p.m. last night. They stopped talking after 9:00 something. They were up again at 5:30 a.m., instead of closer to 7:00 p.m. That's -3 hours in my book. (I figure they should be getting about 11 hours--my goal is 7:30 p.m. to 6:30 a.m.). The night before it had been about -2 hours. Right now, they are in an enforced early rest time, probably one of two today, because they're going to kill each other.

And this has been going on about 2 weeks. I even talked to the doctor about it last week, though she had no real suggestions. I moved dinner earlier, had them outside more, you name it, but nothing is working. They've been so exhausted that they've fallen asleep DURING rest time, which is unheard of, as well as in the car. Which just throws them off more, even if they obviously needed the nap. We've tried putting them to bed early, heading upstairs at 6:30. Maybe we'll have to move it back some more tonight, say upstairs at 6.

But I know they'll talk, probably at least 2 hours, despite numerous interventions (and separating them isn't an option; we don't have another sleepable room). Because tomorrow is super exciting--Gommie arrives.

I just hope they get enough sleep to enjoy her.

Thanksgiving: Too Excited to Sleep

After a day spent cooking and cleaning, we finally came to the end of Thanksgiving Eve. Except the kids just weren't quite ready to call it a day. They only fell asleep about 1 1/2 hours ago, or 10 p.m., almost 3 hours after we put them to bed!

At first, they were just talking, saying how excited they were about Thanksgiving and what they were looking forward to. Mama went up to refill water cups and reported back that they had crawled into bed together, a first, that we know of, for them. Sis was snuggled up next to Bud as they talked and planned. I couldn't resist seeing this for myself so I went up a few minutes later, pretending that I thought I'd heard them call me. And they said how comfy they were and invited me to stay and join them! Seeing them there curled up face to face warmed my mommy heart.

At some point, though, they actually got out of bed and started playing Thanksgiving, going so far as to turn up the overhead light. We could hear them moving around and then there was a call for "Mommy!" So I went up. Except, apparently, it was a baby penguin calling for his mommy, not me (I think Mama thought this was poetic justice for my earlier ruse). I encouraged them to get back in bed, at least, and just talk. But Sis informed me that she was staying up until Thanksgiving. And Bud, who said he wasn't tired, was "just too excited about strawberry jello!"

I went back downstairs. There is no point fighting that, really. What am I going to do--threaten them? hold them down in bed? take them out of bed to put in timeout? cause a scene and make everyone upset? I can't make a child sleep. Our theory on bedtime is that we put them to bed, creating an atmosphere conducive to sleep through stories, songs, "happy thoughts," hugs, and kisses, and then let them fall asleep--if they talk or sing for awhile, fine. Only if one is intentionally keeping or waking up the other do we intervene. Otherwise, we let it go. And it has always worked; they find a way to go to sleep when they are ready. And it takes the burden of their sleeping off us (which we had enough of when they were infants; though, truth be told, they were always good sleepers at night).

Even tonight, at some point, Bud said they should go to bed but Sis's shrill "what?!" ended that idea. Mama went up a bit later and Sis asked if the clock was broken--hadn't she managed to stay up until morning even though the clock still showed blue meaning nighttime (we love our tot clock that changes colors based on our settings--it ended the "is it morning yet?" queries at 4 a.m. from Bud)? It was taking to long, she said.

Mama and I marveled at their sheer holiday joy. I mean, who gets that worked up about Thanksgiving? They talked about the food they'd made, what they wanted to help with in the morning, what they were going to eat at lunch, and reenacted all of it with their critters. I don't remember being that ecstatic about Thanksgiving--Christmas and Easter, absolutely, but not Thanksgiving. Happy, sure; expectant, yes. Up three hours past my bedtime? Nope. But then, Mama and I realized, we both slept in our own rooms without siblings to heighten the excitement. We never experienced that kind of middle-of-the-night sibling bonding the way the kids were. And it made us so glad that they could share that, share a room, share the holiday, share a childhood, particularly because so often sharing so much can be a problem for twins (even if they learn how to do it very early on).

Finally, I ended up in their room for something--a potty run? more water?--and told them I'd tell them a story if they'd get in their beds and put their heads down. And I told them about Thanksgiving with my paternal grandparents, "over the river and through the woods." It wasn't so much a particular Thanksgiving memory but an amalgam of all our visits to their house, starting with the long drive from Houston to Dallas during which my little sister Banana and I would wiggle around the backseat (in the days before any child restraints) asking how long until we got there (with Dad exhorting us to look outside. We always did, at least once, to try to see the beaver dam, but were otherwise pretty bored with the never-changing view of I-45). Then, as we drove into Dallas, we'd see the iconic red Pegasus horse glowing on the skyscraper in the night sky, followed by our eventual arrival at my grandparents' house in the woods in Denton late at night after a final chorus of "to grandmother's house we go." I remember coyotes howling (and Pop frighteningly pretending to be a coyote), the redbrick floor that left stains on feet and socks, Grandad's coffee milk in china cups with demitasse spoons delivered to us in bed in the morning, presents from Grandma on her cedar chest, trips to their garden to pick vegetables, Charlotte Russe in red glass goblets chilling in the fridge, Grandad's cooked apples with cream, playing in the front of the house, helping with the cooking from snapping beans on the front porch to licking the beater of the whipped cream, sitting at the huge dinner table to eat, watching Dallas Cowboys football or Lawrence Welk afterwards with gin and tonics for the adults and little cheese crackers as my grandparents sat in their chairs next to the constantly burning fire.

The kids began to settle down. "I want to go to your grandma's garden," Bud said. "Is your grandma alive?" Sis asked. No, not for a long time now, but the memories are. And I started to sing. First, "Over the River" and then all the songs I always sing for them, like "Water is Wide," "Cotton Fields Back Home," "Summertime," and "Can't Help Loving that Man" (I often don't remember words to more traditional lullabies and didn't want to disrupt the increasingly sleepy mood with fumbled lyrics). By the second round of my repertoire, Bud was asleep but Sis was doing her damnedest to stay awake, from kicking the wall to taking off her socks. Soon however, even she rolled over with Shirt close by for a good sniff.

So, if this is Thanksgiving, what is Christmas going to be like?

But for now, it gives me something very concrete to be thankful for: there is no sound coming from the monitor.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve, everyone! (I'll be back tomorrow not-quite-live-blogging Thanksgiving.)

A Fresh Start

Bud slept an extra 1 1/2 last night. And for the first time, when he woke up, he went straight to the bathroom by himself before coming to say good morning to us (which in Budspeak these days is "may I have my Yankees shirt?").

Sis, who had a rough beginning to her night waking twice with leg cramps caused no doubt by the 3x around the cul-de-sac on her tricycle plus swimming lessons plus running around the backyard, is actually still asleep. This means she will get at least 13 hours of sleep, which is two more than the night before.

I feel like I have newborns again, so obsessed am I with quantity and quality of sleep.

But a good night's sleep will give us all the fresh start we need.

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.

Time, It is a Changin'

So, Daylight Savings Time is here.

And my kids had been getting ready for a month. Sis and Bud had been slowly moving back their wake-up time from 7:15 to 6:15 a.m. and so I had been shifting their bedtimes correspondingly, from 7:15 to 6:15 p.m. So Sunday, when the time changed, they were magically back to their 7:15 wake-up and 7:15 bedtime, exactly where they were about 6 weeks ago.

It's strange, really. They've shifted themselves before every time change they've had. Is it the light? Even with the room darkening shades? Is it the weather? Is it a perfectly-timed growth spurt? Who knows. But it works like, well, clockwork. Everytime.

More on Sleep

There is a discussion over at Motherlode today about a new CDC study on a fourfold increase in infant deaths due to strangulation and suffocation. One obvious conclusion is that the rise correlates to the rise in the family bed, a form of co-sleeping. But the majority of the commentors are clearly affronted by the suggestion.

Which doesn't exactly surprise me. Co-sleepers are as zealous and dedicated to their beliefs as breastfeeders (and are usually the same people), offering personal testimonials to "prove" that co-sleeping is okay. What bothers me is the disdain they show for the fourfold increase--explaining it away as "social darwinism" (for waterbeds), criminal activity (like drugs), and a statistical sleight of hand not significant when compared to other dangers--as if the victims' parents deserved what happened and didn't matter anyway.

Regardless of the exact nature of the strangulation/suffocation incidents--waterbeds, drugs and alcohol, etc--we as a culture should be very, very concerned about any infant death rate that is increasing. Something is not right. I'm not saying the family bed is wrong (though, for the record, we never slept with the twins--they slept in a crib together in our room for a few months and then moved to another room, mainly because we didn't sleep well with them in the bed, I'm a heavy sleeper, and a heavy person, the cat slept with us already, and in the end, it just didn't feel safe to us), but something is and the family bed is one of the possibilities that has to be examined. Sure, automobiles are dangerous, bathtubs are dangerous, hell, even peanut butter is dangerous and so we enforce rules and norms (such as "never leave a child alone in a bathtub") to make those as safe as possible (though, really, the FDA should have more power and less obligation to the food industry). Your kid didn't die in your bed? Great, I am truly happy. But for those parents whose children did, we need to look at reasons why and try to help make sure it happens as infrequently as possible. Even if one of the suspects is your sacred cow.

Perchance to Sleep

If you get more than one mom in a room, there is going to be talk of sleep--your lack of it, the kids' odd schedules, "crying-it-out," co-sleeping, and above all the proverbial "normal," which doesn't actually exist. Just this morning, when my friend with two kids was over, we--two moms with almost 4 years each of nap-and-bedtime experience (that's actually 12 years total: 8 for me and 4 for her)--ended up analyzing her baby's nap schedule and trying to figure out if she was going to drop one. I couldn't help but remember the recent Motherlode discussion on sleep schedules and the diversity of opinions generated by the guest blogger's queries about infants and sleep.

I'll state, for the proverbial record, that we were schedule moms. We tried the on-demand thing, loved the touchy-feely idea of letting baby set his AND her own schedule, responding to their bodies' needs. But folks, that just didn't work too well for twins and us. At one point in those first months, we were breastfeeding, pumping, and bottle-feeding (long and the short of it, I had no milk but we desperately kept trying, hence the first two steps, regardless of how useless they turned out to be, even with all the supplements and special teas) two children separately every two hours--and not the same two hours. And sometimes, they'd wake up in between because they had undiagnosed reflux. Which meant they would then catnap all day, too, exhausted. It goes without saying that this system didn't last long. So we ended up with schedules and charts for eating and sleeping. And the kids got older and we settled into a semblance of a schedule. Though, they were never good nappers--I've been on every backroad in Connecticut, and some in upstate New York and over the border in Massachusetts, trying to get those kids some decent sleep. In the end, they just wanted to sleep at night. And they've risen at 6 or 6:30 almost everyday of their lives, regardless of the time they go to bed. So, without real consistent naps, it didn't take long for us to realize bedtime had better be early. And my kids still go to bed between 6:30 and 7 (which means sometimes Mama only sees them for 10 minutes), after an extremely ritualized bedtime (bath, stories, singing, and evolving elaborate tuck-in with happy thoughts) and then sleep through, with no sleep issues, til morning. Knock on wood. Sure, Mama and I don't get out much (though on those rare occasions we do go out, the kids don't even know we're gone, because we leave after bedtime. More on parental romance in another post), but we have a lot of quality time at home to do whatever needs doing, or not. Works. For us. I don't think it would work for Motherlode's guest blogger, though.

I am never a more rational, relaxed, live-and-let-live mom than when I am asked to give advice to other moms about sleep and the like (note I said "asked"--I try not to give unsolicited advice in person, even if I have opinions that are often expressed in this blog). And my answer, inevitably, is do what works for you. And you means, first, your kids, and by extension, you (we're parents, the kids come first right now. Not first exclusively--I get to be first sometimes--but first in general). Don't know what that is? Try something for a little while (and that means more than a week). And if that doesn't work, try something else. Ignore people who give unsolicited advice expounding their way of doing things--they just want someone else to do it so they can feel validated in their approach. Even, my friend, your mom, who comes in, takes over, and is critical of the way you do everything, with the implicit support of your husband. Not ready to potty train? Don't. Don't care if your son has a binkie? Fine with me. I like you, I like your kids. I have enough to do with my own that I can't analyze and criticize you and yours. And I'm not into judging, lest, well, I do live in a glass house.

But I understand the need to ask for advice, to check how everyone is doing everything. I was never more happy than to be past the breastfeeding, napping, and potty-training stages so I could quit worrying about the way I was doing it. We spend way too much time as moms worrying about these stages that eventually, and rather quickly, pass. I have a theory about moms like me today. We weren't raised to be moms. We were raised to be anything and everything and not exclusively trained to be moms as many were in the generations before us. Because of this, we are a). not as familiar with the rigors and techniques of motherhood as our predecessors (which I think is why we are so open to all sorts of parenting strategies and easy prey to an industry trying to sell us things and theories) and b). full of expectations for ourselves outside of motherhood (or, at the least, adapting our goals and ambitions and strategies from our other, often professional selves, to motherhood). It's a dangerous cocktail, full of doubt, longing, ambition, confusion, that leaves us hungover often. Especially because we never get enough sleep.

Sleep Deprived

We're off again.

Buddy is sound asleep on the floor in a pile of loveys. He fell asleep after reading a story with Babysitter--just rolled over and fell asleep! Probably because he woke up at 6 a.m. ish, which is more than an hour earlier than usual.

See, they napped on Saturday on the way home from Mystic (that was lots of fun--Sis loved riding the horse-drawn carriage, while Buddy loved playing cook in the galley of the children's museum). Then they went to bed late, woke up early on Sunday, went to bed on time on Sunday, and woke up early on Monday. Just where we were last week at this time.

Except last Monday, as you will recall, was miserable and today was pretty good. In honor of No Television Week, we didn't watch a thing until rest time at 1 p.m., a near record for us. Instead, we played chase downstairs, we played hide and go seek upstairs, baked butterscotch cookies, played outside, and painted. Buddy really likes our Fairy House under the pine tree--today we added a magic circle of white rocks, a Fairy guardian (a fairy lawn decoration I had--black silhouette of a dancing fairy), and flowers. In fact, Sis and Buddy really enjoyed picking all the wild violets in our yard--"the best bouquet in the world!" (thank you, Franklin). Our motto, though, was leave some for tomorrow, which mainly worked. This afternoon, Babysitter was here while I went to PT and, well, now Buddy is asleep on the floor while dinner (meatloaf) cooks. Sis is awake, waiting for dinner, which means she'll be trying to fall asleep just as he wakes up.

So, tomorrow we'll be off again. But hopefully, it will be another good day like today.