Sweet Dreams

Amelia, my oldest, has never liked to go to sleep. When she was a baby, I had to learn to let her cry it out (usually in tears, myself), and this task could sometimes take up to an hour. As a toddler, we had to barricade the doors to eliminate the nightly in-and-out-of-bed dance. As a preschooler, Amelia wields the bedtime weapons of manipulation and negotiation.

"I need my doggy, Mommy." Mom goes and retrieves doggy from under the kitchen table.

"I need cold water." I tell her that she has water in a cup next to her bed already.

"It's not cold; I need cold water." To Amelia, cold water has to have ice cubes. If it doesn't, it's not "cold."

We read 3 stories, we feed the fish, we brush teeth, we pray. Manipulation is complete, now let the negotiation begin...

"But, mommy, I can't sleep here by myself. Rub my back and sing me a song....Puhlease!!!!" I tell her 2 minutes, she says 10 minutes. I say 5 minutes, she says 10 minutes. This can go on and on. It is no small miracle that I ever make it out of her bedroom.

Some nights are better than others. Tonight, I could tell that her little engine was all revved up by the events of the day and after the standard bedtime ritual, I decided to employ a technique suggested to me by a friend. I simply asked, "Amelia, what was the best part of your day today?" Realizing that three year olds struggle with open-ended questions, I told her that the best part of my day was going to pick her up from school and watching her go down the water slide.

Amelia replied, "Well, my favorite part of the day was when you picked me up from school and watched me on the water slide. That was fun." I kissed her, told her I loved her, and she rolled on to her side and snuggled up with her doggy. I could sense that it was O.K. for me to leave.

I guess I have to remember that in the midst of bedtime directives and routines, what she really wants and needs is to spend time with me. All of her manipulations and negotiations are working towards that objective. Parenting a small child (or two, or three...) is a job, but it's also a relationship. Sometimes, I forget that.