Bedtime blues

It was another quiet evening in the Gibbons household.
My wife and I talked at increasingly elevated levels so that we could continue our “How was your day” conversation. The decibel level had to rise, so that we could top the growing list and growing volume of my daughter’s bargaining offers for watching a movie rather than go to bed.
Our son added to the serenity by doing somersaults around the room, screaming, “LOOK AT MY TICK!!!” I think he meant trick. I hope he meant trick.
Ah, life with children.
Once again, bedtime has reached a new level in child rearing. For a while, we had it all worked out. Allie would gently fall asleep as a book was read to her. Parker would take in a book, then climb in his bed and drift off by himself. That lasted, by my estimates, two nights.
Our children have now formed an unbreakable, tag-team insomnia alliance.
Allie has had trouble getting to bed for much of her life. By her second birthday, she had slept a total of 16 minutes. And those were done in the car.
But over the past few months, my wife and I have worked hard at getting her in a go-to-sleep routine. Actually, my wife has. My wife has patience. I have a screwdriver with which to turn the door handle so that the lock is to the outside. (My wife nipped that one in the bud.)
But on nights when she gets a little tired — and therefore a lot cranky — she has begun to put up resistance. And resistance comes in one of two forms: Bargaining or pain.
First, the pain. She begins to have all kinds of mysterious ailments. Her toe will hurt. Her leg will hurt. Her hair will hurt. One time, she told us her “escalator” hurt. We think she meant abdomen. Now I know what you’re saying. You’re saying “escalator?” But you are also thinking, “Hey, what if she’s really hurting?” Well, just take it on parental instinct that when a child is told to put on pajamas and suddenly develops a limp, there may be more to the story.
The bargaining is difficult to deal with, because it often leaves us doing our best not to start laughing out loud. “OK, OK, OK, how about this: I watch ONE movie, and then I go to bed in your bedroom, and when I’m seven I’ll sleep in my bed?” “OK, OK, OK, how about I watch TWO movies, go to sleep in your bed, and then have a sleepover at Grandma’s?” “OK, OK, OK, how about instead of bed, we make cookies and get a puppy?”
She drives a hard bargain.
Once we get her to her room, there is usually a series of back and forths to her room. She needs a water. She has to go the bathroom. She needs a hug. Yes, we do keep going back in there, but let’s not forget who put the skids on turning the doorknob around.
Parker, meanwhile, has just decided that he has no use for bedtime. It used to be relaxing to put him to bed. I would sit at the computer, turn on some music, and surf the web while he sat in my arms and fell asleep, usually in a matter of minutes. Now, he does not go to sleep. Rather, he comments on the Web sites I’m surfing. And his comment is either “FOOTBALL!!!” or “NO, FOOTBALL!!!” Show the kid a picture of football, he’s a happy camper.
So what inevitably happens is, after a while, I decide to put him in his room. He asks for me to pat his back for a few minutes, and then summarily dismisses me. Seriously. “Daddy, go.” Fair enough. But then comes the caveat. Leave the light on, and keep the door open. The light on I can deal with. But the door open? Yeah, tried that a few times. Wanna guess how long an antsy two-year-old stays in a room with an open door? Generally, after about four seconds, Parker will come bounding downstairs. “Good morning! Me wake up!” I find it disheartening that at that age, my son is already trying to con me. He knows quite well it is not morning and he has not just woken up, the little scammer.
So what invariably happens is I will end up doing a final good-night, and leaving him in his room to let us know just what he thinks about our decision to install those child-proof door handles on his door. I figure it’s only a matter of time until he cracks the code.
I suppose this cycle will end soon, and before we know it they’ll be easy to get to sleep again. Or my wife and I may just let it ride. And take them over to Grandma’s.