The Chronicles of Bedtime

“I’m still hungry mom…”
“I want some water mom…”
“I have to go potty mom….”
“Can I come up on your bed, just a little bit, mom?”
In our house, bedtime is an occasion for extremes. We have excellent nights or horrible ones, there is no grey area. If my two-year-old does not happen to fall asleep right away after her bath and book, she swiftly enters into the “point of no return,” where we all get pushed to our limits on energy and patience. It doesn’t matter how no-nonsense I get. Her melt-downs predictably wake up my five-month-old, or vice versa.
Sleeping arrangements air on the “open nest” format in our house. Our most restful nights come from the Dr. Sears side of advice (open-nest/attachment parenting) versus the Ferber method (cry-it-out/separation). Currently our master bedroom is cradling our entire household; my son’s pack-and-play and my daughter’s toddler bed next to our king-size mattress, which my husband and I also share with the cat and our 60-pound dog.
Last night, after being denied a second cup of milk, a fourth bedtime story and yet another stuffed animal to sleep with, my daughter, at three hours past her bedtime, decided to go for broke and ridiculously requested, “Can I watch ‘The Lion King’?”
What?!? No, you cannot watch The Lion King, go to sleep right now!
On nights like these, after I have passed my personal tolerance level for exhaustion and shenanigans, nevermind The Twilight Zone, it feels more like we are living in an alternate reality along the lines of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia. Half asleep with not an ounce of patience left, I could easily be confused as a lion, a witch, or perhaps I will search for a wardrobe to lock myself inside of.
Yet I am assured by a C.S. Lewis quote that, “miracles do not, in fact, break the laws of nature.” I guess that means I don’t have to wander into another realm looking for a good night’s sleep.
Indeed, on other evenings everything magically falls into place. The kids are both sound asleep by 6:30 p.m. for the night and my husband and I actually enjoy uninterrupted conversation or delight in a non-Disney movie for once. On these nights, I gaze at our sleeping babes in amazement, wondering what miracle sprung their cry-free slumber. I wonder if I could bottle the secret to forty winks. I would store it in an air-tight jar, unscrewed sparingly; specifically on nights when I felt even Prince Caspian couldn’t save us from a bedtime struggle. Until then, whether we are reading bedtime stories or creating them... The Chronicles continue.