The girls go to bed at seven. This is fairly standard, I believe, and it works for us. We prefer to eat when they’ve gone to bed, something that we do need to change but the reluctance is mine, I like to eat without little hands and little voices and I have breakfast and lunch with them sat three inches away from my nose demanding bites and tastes.
Some nights it’s a little later, if they’ve been allowed to sleep during the day, if it’s been a quiet indoor rainy day and some nights, like tonight, it’s earlier. Tonight was a shit show. They were loud, argumentative, rude and generally unpleasant. I escaped to look at bras online, nothings fits, and almost immediately, Doodle is crying as Izzy Biz had pushed her. They didn’t want pyjamas on, they didn’t want stories, no I could not brush their hair and, I’ll be honest, we did time out until Izzy cried in realisation and scuttled meekly to me, arms around my neck and a sorry on her lips.
We had a lovely story time in the end, they snuggled in close, they were tired and cuddly and we read The Paper Dolls, which is a beautiful book if you haven’t read it. It’s about growing up and imagination and we chatted about making our own. I kissed them goodnight, told them I loved them and then J sang the bed song. The bed song is Lavender Blue, and has been forever, they request it when they’re tired, or sad or in the middle of the night and need to get back to sleep.
6.44pm.
Sometimes it’s OK to admit that you need to put your children to bed for your own sanity and theirs. Sometimes a time out needs to be dramatic, sometimes your parenting strategy of letting your children be bold and questioning and independent fails and you have to resort to Plan B.
On Wednesday, we have a funeral and the girls are going to my parents for the night. Sometimes you have to admit to yourself and others that YOU CANNOT WAIT! A whole night of uninterrupted sleep (theoretically), a lay in, breakfast out, oh, the possibilities…
I’ll miss them intensely.
Fairy Lights and Fear 