If I were to rate my ability to parent on a scale of one to ten, I'd give myself a solid nine. I have a degree in elementary education. I know child psychology and I'm not afraid to use it. I'm proud of my kids. They're smart, compassionate and have great personalities. They know how to treat others kindly and, most of the time, they know how to act in public. I'd like to think I have a tiny bit to do with that.
If you were to come to my house on any given day, you'd see a fairly happy, half-way organized family. Two weeks ago, I would've told you to be sure to leave before 9 pm. That's when my children turned into beings that I didn't even recognize. The atmosphere in my house turned from decent to sour to near-catastrophic before the clock even finished its last chime. In my house, bedtime was an absolute disaster.
For the longest time, I couldn't figure it out. Where was the mess-up? They played fine throughout the evening. I would even give them a "ten-minute warning" so they could finish up what they were doing and wind down. Turns out, that wasn't good enough.
It finally came to me out of blue one day (a regular V-8 moment you might say). I was going about it all wrong. I said before that we have a half-way organized household. Bedtime was the other half of that. My kids had structure in most other parts of their day. At bedtime, I left them to run amuck, to find their own way to sleep. They needed a routine. It's simple and I can't believe it took me so long to catch up. Once I did, though, things took a different-much better-turn. Instead of the ten-minute warning, the kids began to go through a bedtime ritual every night. The great part was, they didn't even know it.
The fun starts at 8 pm. The kids take a bath, brush their teeth, and pick out their clothes for the next day. Then they choose two books for me to read in bed. Instead of winding down on their own in ten minutes, they wind down during reading time. After books, we turn out the light and I tell them a story. By the time this is done, they are calm and ready to sleep.
There's still the occasional whine. There's still the usual "I have to go to the bathroom" or "I need a drink"-or sometimes both. But the two-hour screaming sessions are no more. I don't even have to mutter the words "time for bed". The anxiety associated with bedtime is gone-for all of us. I'm still working on that perfect ten.