Reader Question: The Bedtime Routine

Becky writes:

hi swistle!
so, i am reading this whole post about having a second child and why people do it, and how people do it (because with jack’s birthday coming up next week, we are at the point when we said we would start thinking about it) and it got me wondering how you guys get all those kids to bed at night! i mean, i can see the older ones maybe going to bed on their own, maybe, but you have a few young ones there, and had a real tiny baby not that long ago (he is getting so big so quickly it blows my mind!) (my mind is pretty well blown by the fact that i practically have a toddler now though too!). in any case, this is basically another one of those “how do you it?” emails.

And Meredith asked me about the afternoon/dinner/bed schedule ages ago, back when I did the Here’s the Hell How post, and I was all, “Yes, I’ll totally do a post on that! Totally!”—and that was in February and here we are in August.

So. Bedtime routine. Paul gets home from work at around 4:45. He plays with the kids for awhile, and since this is the first time all day there has been more than one adult in the house, I usually use this time to do things that are tricky to handle with one person in charge: looking in the basement for something I’m not quite sure where I put it, washing the dishes, feeding my Facebook pets, eating cookies with no one watching, etc.

Paul usually makes the kids’ dinner; he starts at about 5:10. It has to be done while we’re both home (I can cook on my own with five kids in the house, but only if I can also scream and throw dishes and swig directly from an open bottle of hard liquor), and he likes that chore better than others, so it’s mostly his. It’s something simple: eggs and toast and sausage, or english muffin pizzas, or chicken cut up for dipping in sauces, or chicken and scrambled egg and rice. While Paul cooks, I’m in charge of the other kids, although he’s always got Elizabeth because she likes to help him.

Rob and William are responsible for tidying up before dinner. They’re supposed to basically remove all the day’s Kid Detritus from the main living areas of the house—the rooms we still have to look at after the kids are in bed. Rob and William resent that this means they’re picking up after the younger three, but recently the twins have been able to help some, and also our attitude about this is NOT MUCH SYMPATHY for children who don’t exactly have to work on the farm around here.

When dinner is ready (5:30/5:45ish), whichever parent didn’t cook is in charge of supervising Henry in his high chair, and Paul and I both handle requests for more milk, dropped fork, more food, tattling about who put whose carrots on whose plate, etc. It’s common for one of us to be able to leave for something brief: checking email, cycling laundry, finally using the bathroom without a buddy, etc.—but we both know not to be gone too long, or the other person gets Resentful Feelings.

After dinner, the kids clear their own dishes; I help out if there’s a leftover-food issue to deal with. The parent in charge of Henry (usually me) cleans up Henry and his high chair and swabs at the faces of anyone else who needs it. Sometimes there’s a little loose time here if the kids ate fast or if we had dinner earlier than usual, and in that case if I’m feeling energetic I might give a fast bath (just washing, not playing) to two of the Littles (two is my usual limit per session), but it’s more typical for it to be about 6:00 and time for the getting-ready-for-bed routine.

Paul changes Henry and Edward into their pajamas. Meanwhile, I brush five sets of teeth: I call the kids in one after another, and then go find Henry and make a stab at reaching some of his. After Rob and William have their teeth brushed, they go get themselves into their pajamas. When everyone’s teeth are brushed, I help Elizabeth into her pajamas (she likes to do it “herself,” meaning it takes ten times as long and requires four times as much work from me).

At 6:30, Paul and Rob and William go to Rob’s room, where Paul reads to them. I stay with the younger three. Sometimes they’re playing and I read; sometimes they’re watching TV and I’m at my computer; sometimes they’re playing and I’m fixing my dinner; sometimes I’m reading to them; sometimes I’m handling some sort of last-minute issue (someone needed a bath, someone wanted to try the potty, someone needed a diaper change, someone’s teeth weren’t brushed yet).

At 6:45, I put Edward and Henry to bed. It takes a little over 5 minutes to settle them in with their various things: kisses and hugges, blankies, covers, etc. Elizabeth acts as if she’s another grown-up: wishing them good-night, closing the door, etc.

It hasn’t always been this way, but these days one of us sits with Elizabeth until she falls asleep. This has changed everything around: we used to put Edward and Henry to bed at 7:00, but we start earlier so we can also start earlier with Elizabeth. Paul and I take turns sitting with her. It’s a lottery: some nights she’s asleep in 10 minutes, and some nights it’s 45. The most common is for the parent on Elizabeth Duty to be sneaking out of her room at 7:15 or 7:20.

After their book time with Paul, Rob and William are allowed to stay up—but they have to be playing quietly in the downstairs playroom (a rec room type area with a Lego table, a computer, board games) or in their rooms (well, William’s room has sleeping children in it, so our room is his room if he needs it). They’re allowed to come up for emergencies (blood, fire, burglars, flood) and every half hour to go to the bathroom (which always turns into a “just wanting to say one thing” opportunity), but otherwise they’re not supposed to be underfoot or making demands. On school nights, their “no, really, now you actually have to go to bed” time is 8:30 (non-school nights: 9:00), but then we let Rob read in bed after that and we don’t look carefully at when he turns out the lights: reading = good, and also he’s always had trouble sleeping.

So to sum up: we’re in motion with the dinner/bed routine from about 5:10 until about 6:45; then only one of us is busy until around 7:20; and then we’re both basically free for the evening.

Lorraine’s Pay-It-Forward Contest

Lorraine writes:

Here is the stuff that the lovely Fiona Picklebottom has gifted to me:

She pegged me right on the money because I am a total stationery addict. I love it all (AND I got to pick my own book too! What a great idea! It’s like a gift certificate and a surprise all in one!)

So my big thanks out to Fiona!

Now, I need to have my own Pay it Forward and I don’t have a site….can I borrow yours? I have a goody bag of Canadian tasties and some Pacific Northwest photo cards. Can we have a little contest?

Indeed! (And I will never be able to say that word again without thinking of Omar on the TV series The Wire.) Leave a comment on this post to enter Lorraine’s contest. It can be any comment, but if you need something to say you can say what the weather’s doing right now where you are. Contest will run through Saturday, August 23rd, noon U.S. Pacific time.

********
Other pay-it-forward updates:

Teacher Mom is showing the giftie she got.

Overestimating Your Interest in Flooring at This Hour of the Morning

Elizabeth and I are up pretty early this morning. I’m still having trouble sleeping, and my new radical plan is—wait for it—to get up and go to bed at a consistent time each day. Wake-up time is going to be the time Paul gets up for work, also known as “Dumpster-slam JAM!” in our neighborhood (5:30).

So this explains why I am sitting here with my under-eye bags perched on my cheek-tops, drinking instant orange-flavored cappuccino (predominant flavor still “instant coffee”) and feeling sullen. It does NOT explain why ELIZABETH is up, walking up and down the stairs and singing TMBG’s Never Go to Work. Elizabeth doesn’t like to miss out on any action, so she’s got some sort of monitoring device on me that woke her up just as I sat down with my mug, thinking, “Well, it’ll be fun to play on the computer for awhile, anyway.”

Er, not that every moment with her isn’t a treasure and a joy. But at 5:30 a.m. I’m scheduled to be treasuring the beauty of her eyelashes on her rosy sleeping cheek, not the glory of her piping little voice full of ideas for my time.

I’m feeling more optimistic about the dining room floor. I’d been overwhelmed by too many choices, ranging from $1 a square foot to “why not just forget about your kids’ education and have a nice floor instead?” a square foot. It was too much to consider. I don’t feel happy until the options start narrowing. To make a wall comparison, I’m unhappy in the “Wallpaper, paint, paneling, beadboard, hay?” stage. I feel a little better but still stressed in the “Okay, I’ve decided, it’s paint! But what COLOR?” stage. I don’t perk up until I’m at the “Okay, PINK! Now which SHADE?” stage.

With the dining room floor, the first significant narrowing occurred when I chose fake wood rather than fake stone or fake tile or real wood or real stone or real tile. The second narrowing occurred when I read the August issue of Consumer Reports, and they love Armstrong laminate. And so I love Armstrong laminate, and the only thing to decide now is which kind of wood will it be pretending to be?

Feel free to weigh in! You know, as long as you remember that I am TIRED, and on a HAIR-TRIGGER with stress over this floor thing, and also that I chose those five from a pool of thousands and thousands and so clearly I LIKE them and the only issue is which one is BEST. So no “That looks like my cat barfed and then spread it out in a thin layer to maximize the Bare Foot Contact Zone”-type thing.

If you need to visualize, the dining room borders only the kitchen, which currently has actual bona fide linoleum (it dents! and has asbestos under it! and is supposed to be regularly WAXED!)

********
Pay-it-forward updates:

My Life is starting a new contest.

Alice’s Wonderland is showing the giftie she got (she’s got a loop!).

Personality Tests

I was so interested to read all the answers to yesterday’s We Don’t Know What They Mean personality tests. What I found most interesting was the way it was sometimes so easy to see both sides of the issue equally clearly. Like, with the candy question for example, why would anyone force themselves to eat candy they don’t even like?? That’s CRAZY! What a waste of calories/candy! But on the other hand, how could someone go through and pick out their own favorites, leaving the unbalanced proportions for everyone else, shrugging and saying, “I don’t eat what I don’t like”? That’s AWFUL! That’s so inconsiderate!

Candy assortments drive me crazy with their sweet “have it all!” promises and their “but never quite the way you want it!” follow-ups. I think the answer to that one is that people shouldn’t try to share candy assortments unless they’ve already established that they’re compatible assortment-sharers. In most cases, it’s better for people to buy their own assortments and share the leftovers: there’s a huge difference between “Hey, who left nothing but the Special Darks and Mr. Goodbars???” and “Hey, does anyone want my extra Special Darks and Mr. Goodbars?” This is why it’s so important to marry well. I like the pink, purple, and white jellybeans, and Paul likes the green, orange, yellow, and black jellybeans, and we agree to throw out the red ones. Happiness!

Personality Test #5

(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)

If there’s a bag of mixed candy, do you eat only the kinds you like, leaving the others? Or do you make yourself eat all the kinds?

Personality Test #4

(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)

My mom and I each got a free sample of one of those incredibly expensive little Philosophy face serum pods. My mom used hers at the next possible opportunity. I still have mine (it’s been a month), saving it for a special occasion.

Do you use special stuff right away, or do you hoard it? If you hoard, do you hoard until it’s no longer special, or do you just hoard until the next good opportunity?

Personality Test #3

(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)

When you’re just moving the car to a new place in the driveway or if you’re just moving it out of the driveway to the yard (that is, you’re not driving it on the road), do you wear your seatbelt?

Personality Test #2

(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)

Honestly, truly, think about it carefully: Which would you be happier hearing: “Oh, you’re so pretty!” or “Oh, you’re so smart!”

We’re taught carefully that (1) appearance is of utmost importance and also that (2) appearance is of no importance, so this is a question that SEEMS like it has a “right” answer—but I don’t think it does, I think it’s just a matter of which you’d prefer hearing.

Personality Test #1

I’ve read that people who will leave a bad movie in the middle (cutting their losses) are happier and more successful than people who won’t (trying to get their money’s worth). Which kind are you?

[Edit: Okay, I totally screwed this up. I accidentally posted all five personality tests, then noticed my mistake and took out four. But it’s showing up in feed readers with all five, so some people are answering all five. So if you see someone answering five, they are not crazy! I am careless!]

Well, What CAN You Do?

Sometimes I get in these moods where I have so much to do, I can’t do anything. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but because I’m in that kind of mood right this minute, I can’t go back and find where. The idea of searching through the archives seems overwhelming.

Here’s what I do when I’m in one of those moods: I play “Well, What CAN You Do?” This afternoon, for example: There is stuff strewn all over all the floors, and the dishes are piled to the top of the sink, and laundry needs to be done, and I would like to have muffins tomorrow but would need to bake some, and I need to choose flooring for the dining room, and the sheets haven’t been changed in awhile on any of the six beds, and I need to go through photos so I can send a batch to my in-laws, and there is a lot of other stuff to be done but I am suffocating under the weight of it and all I want to do is flee to somewhere where none of this is my job. I think, “I can’t do it. I can’t do any of it. I can’t do those dishes, and I can’t handle the laundry—maybe not ever again.”

What I do is I think to myself, “Well, what CAN you do?” And I answer myself lethargically: “Well. I could put IN a load of laundry. But I’m NOT seeing it all the way through, and I’m not folding the load that’s all cold in the dryer.” And I say back, “That’s fine, fine. Do you think you could bring the dryer load upstairs?” And I say, “Yeah. But I’m not folding it!” And I say, “Sure, no, that’s fine. Just leave it in the hall.” And that’s what I do. Or perhaps I first offer the opinion that I shouldn’t even put a load in, since I’ll just have to manage it later and if I don’t it’ll be all mildewy and that’ll be even more discouraging—but if I DO say something like that, I immediately soothe myself: “No, no—don’t think about later. Just do what you can do NOW. I know, putting laundry IN is the easy/fun part, but that’s okay: just do the easy/fun part.”

And then when the washing machine is swishing, I say to myself, “What ELSE can you do? Anything?” And I shrug and say, “Well, I guess I could put away the oven mitt that’s on the counter.” And I praise myself: “Oh, good! Yes, that’s very good!” And so then I feel a little encouraged, and I say, “And I guess I could also pick up this crumpled napkin, and on the way to the trash I could use it to pick up that dead ant on the floor.” And myself lavishes me with even more praise.

Already things look better. And I don’t PUSH it, either: if doing the things I CAN do doesn’t lead to a big on-a-roll session, I go ahead and flop down at my computer or in my recliner as I wanted to do to begin with. But the washing machine is going, and the oven mitt is one less thing cluttering the kitchen counters, and the dead ant is in the trash, and so things are a little better than they were before, and I feel a little better too.