Sleep is overrated.

Is it bedtime yet?  Well, it depends on who's asking: tired mom? of course: crying baby? tantruming toddler? exhausted young child? never! When I was in first grade we were herded into the gym every day after lunch where we would lie on our nap mats (towels) for approximately 100 hours (or maybe 30 minutes) for nap time.  Were they serious?  We were supposed to sleep on a wood floor in close proximity to 60 other wiggly and very awake 5 year-olds?  Ridiculous.  Never one to be idle (that's actually a lie) I used this time to practice crossing my eyes.  My mom said they might stick if I crossed them.  Well, I had to know for sure, but first I needed to learn how.  I became very adept at my eye crossing skills, even using them to enhance my conversation, so I'm not saying the time was wasted, but I didn't sleep a wink...and my eyes didn't stay that way...yet.

I realize now that the adults in charge were not punishing us, they were trying to give us one of the most precious of gifts...sleep.  In visiting families with children and having raised  my own I am realizing that we are failing in our marketing of this rare commodity to our society's young.  We know what sleep deprivation feels like with the hunger for something, is it food? no that's not it, it's something deeper.  We recognize that when  "Life is just too hard," "I don't like anyone," "I can't be happy," "I have a little sore throat," and "Why can't I remember anything?" that a little nap or good nice sleep could make all the difference.  We love our children and want them to be happy and brave and civil and sane and so we attempt to give them this gift, but do they want it?  You all know the answer to that.  We should just turn on the old video camera every night at bedtime and post on Facebook the next day so everyone would know that their children aren't the only ones coming out 4 and 5 and 6 times a night with requests for water, food, kisses, hugs, lights on, lights off, doors open, doors shut,  Dolly and Bear's water, food, kisses, hugs, lights on, lights off, doors open, doors shut.  They appeal to our compassion with "I'm hot, I'm scared, my mosquito bites itch, my blankets are crooked, my brother/sister is kicking, jumping, poking, hurting, breathing."

There must be a way for them to know the great opportunity at hand when we offer them a beautiful mid-day nap or a cozy nightly tuck-in to their soft bed with nice sheets and a pillow.  They can just close their little eyes and rest.  Maybe we could point out the teenagers in the world who gladly sleep anywhere anytime, okay not at night, but all the other times. What about the poor children in Africa who would give anything for an early bed time? I always thought that the fact that my children's nighttime requests were always met with a not very nice mommy response would deter them. Au contraire. I believe they thought it was funny.  "It's boring in our beds.  Lets watch Mom get crazy when we come out."

I just read a study about the importance of a consistent bedtime for children, and we all know that young children need 10 hours and babies 15 hours of sleep per day.  So we will continue in our efforts to get children sleeping, but if you're wondering if you're the only house with bedtime stall rituals know that you're in good company.

I used to call bedtime "the witching hour" because that's how I felt, but I married a compassionate guy.  The kids figured out that one thought Dad couldn't bear was a child going to bed with an empty tummy.  "I'm still hungry" was met with success as their Dad invited them into the kitchen for a piece of toast.  I was a little more hard core.  One child's consistent requests were ignored until I finally went in to his room to check on his health after being disregarded for a considerable period of time.  He had thrown his blankets on the floor.  When I asked what happened he said, "Well you're the one who wouldn't help me."  Another little boy used to sit at the top of the stairs and watch our movies in the reflection on the window.  Little Nathan would stroll in and snuggle up to his Dad and ask what show he was watching.  I call this the "Disguise yourself as a peer" strategy.  As I reflect on the challenge of obtaining the thing I longed for most, sleeping children, I realized I didn't figure it out as much as my children just grew up.  Basically, you don't know what you've got til it's gone.  All of my adult children finally know, sleep is one of life's greatest gifts.