If you were expecting helpful tips on how to get your children tucked happily into their beds, this is definitely not what you’re going to get here, please continue along on your merry way.
However if you think bedtime is as fun as sticking pins in your eyes then read on…
Oh wow, how I loathe bedtime. I’m sure I’m not the only parent out there who feels this way. It’s not every night I despise it, but sometimes when it’s just been me and the girls all day long and the constant demands of 2 small children have worn my patience thin, I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and go to sleep by myself. Instead, I have to orchestrate The Bedtime Routine.
One particular night, roughly a year ago, back when we were still living at my parents house (when ours was being renovated). At bedtime, Child 1 was still a little ball of energy. Even though we had spent all day long playing, painting, running around, etc, etc, etc
She wanted to fight. I did not want to fight back. She was grabby, pinchy, kicky and I just could not be bothered for it. I had no space left for it and no patience either.
I stuck her in front of the digital babysitter (thanks Amazon fire!) whilst I got the baby off to sleep. This took half an hour, pretty much standard back then.
I then took some slow, deep breaths, reminded myself that Child 1 is only 4 years old and is not trying to be annoying on purpose and went to wrestle the screen out of her hands. It went surprisingly well, and she dropped off to sleep in under 10 minutes.
“Excellent!” I thought. I grabbed the washing basket, with a plan to do a load of washing on before settling down for a glorious child-free half hour before going to bed myself. I started emptying the dryer, day dreaming about whether to have Ovaltine or a decaf tea. Then, the baby wakes up again.
Back upstairs, back into the darkness and side-boobing for another half an hour. The thoughts going through my head sound something like;
“Perhaps she’s teething again”
“Maybe she’s overtired…did she nap for long enough today?”
“She took more steps by herself today, maybe she’s thinking about that”
“Is she too hot?”
“She insisted on wearing the sleepsuit, I didn’t want to put it on her”
“but then it is quite cool in this bedroom, maybe I should put a long sleeved top on myself”
“I’m quite cold, where is my top?”
On and on…blah blah blah…
I must’ve dropped off to sleep as the next thing I know, Child 1 is tugging on my arm asking for breakfast.
Back then, during the sleep deprivation and amidst the post natal depression, I often felt as though I was failing. I always got the end result – they both fell to sleep eventually. But I had always imagined bedtime would be more like the scene from Mary Poppins where she simply sings a lullaby and even sullen Michael can’t resist dropping off into a peaceful slumber.
These days, I have a routine. It’s not strict by any means but it is a routine that I stick to as closely as possible. The children know what is expected of them, and I don’t forget to brush their teeth! My husband often jokes how when it hits 6pm “fun mummy” leaves and “business mummy” walks in.
Our routine goes like this:
5:00pm Dinner is on the table: everyone sits down and we talk about our day
5:30pm Clean up: the girls bring their plates to the kitchen then have a final play with their toys, or something quiet such as colouring whilst I do the dishes and wipe down the table
6:00pm We head upstairs and the girls generally wind each other up/run away/play an unwanted game of hide-and-seek with me, until I convince them to use the toilet, brush their teeth and get in the bath/shower
6:45pm Bedtime: Pyjamas on, lay down in bed, boob and a story for Child 2. Child 1 has the choice to come into bed with us until Child 2 falls asleep, or go into her own room with a screen until Child 2 falls asleep, and then I read Child 1 her story and stay with her until she falls asleep.
If we deviate from the routine, I feel my old demons start to crawl onto my shoulders and whisper mean things into my ears. If this happens, I will call for help. Often this means video-calling my husband and leave the children to have 5 minutes chatting with daddy whilst I go into another room to take some breaths and a break, or I’ll message or call a friend to help me come back down from the brink of exploding.
It works most of the time. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I lose my cool and I scream and everyone gets upset. I apologise. We make up. I hold them and dry their tears.
Most of the time, I’ll ask myself what’s not working? Is it because I am asking something of them that they’re not interested in doing? Is it because they have a little bit more energy to burn off before going to sleep? Is it because they’re rubbing off on each other’s energy.
In general, my rational brain will find the answers. I’ll play a game to get them into bed; I’ll get them to do a little obstacle course of climbing on the bed, jumping off, hopping, standing on a stool; I’ll split them up by allowing Child 1 some screen time…etc. It’s only recently that I have been able to remember that I have options and all is not lost if they’re not in bed on time.
I’ve been navigating the school summer holidays these past six weeks, often solo parenting as my husband has often been working away. It’s been ok, the routine remains solid but the timings become more flexible. I’m looking forward to getting back into the school routine as it will help me to remember what day of the week it is!
Keeping to this routine helps me to keep a mental checklist of what is coming next, and I get the feeling the children do too. Children thrive on predictability and consistency. It helps them to learn healthy habits that I hope they will take responsibility for as they grow older. Child 2 starts nursery this September which no doubt will bring a whole new level of chaos to our evenings!