So, as happens from time to time, my 4-year-old is on a napping boycott. We have already removed everything resembling a toy from her room, because these distractions seem to make it harder for her to stay in bed until she falls asleep. But that isn’t stopping her from finding entertainment in lieu of napping. This week it’s been hangers. Those cheap plastic ones that her favorite dresses and skirts came on. There are no clothes on these hangers, they just live in her closet for no apparent reason. Now they have a new purpose.
Minutes after putting her down for her afternoon nap, I can hear on her monitor the faintest of creaks as she climbs out of bed (she really is stealthy for such a young child), followed by whispering. She lines the hangers up on her floor, gives them names, and creates scenarios for them: a mother and father going swimming with their child; a prince and princess getting married; a beast chasing, then being subdued by, a young girl. She has a great imagination, and her inability to turn it off in order to get the sleep she needs is no surprise to me, as I did the same thing at her age.
I remember my mother tucking me into bed, waiting as long as I could stand (for her to settle in front of the TV in the other room), then sneaking out of bed and creating fantastic stories with the stuffed animals who lived on my bed. They were castaways on an island, trying to get home (I loved Gilligan’s Island as a child) or children who found themselves in a magical world were anything was possible.
I don’t want to limit her imagination time, but the cranky factor cannot be denied. A nap missed means an evening of talking back, erupting into tears over the smallest things, and lots of little sister bullying. Maybe I can steer her toward playing Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, with napping as part of the game. Until then, I’ve removed the hangers. Today I expect to hear her using fingers and toes as characters in her next play, but I’m hoping instead for the sweet sounds of a napping child, followed by a cheerful evening where she is not too cranky to enjoy herself.
Showing posts with label nap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nap. Show all posts
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Bribery
When it comes to getting what I want from my kids, I’m a firm believer in bribery. And since I just read an article in Parents magazine advocating it as an acceptable method of preventing tantrums, I now feel relieved to do it guilt-free. Maybe I’ll even use it more freely now that it’s condoned by experts.
My daughter was close to giving up naps when she turned three. There were two problems with this notion. One was that I had the baby napping at the same time, and I really, really wanted both kids to nap together so I could have a quiet hour to myself each afternoon. The second problem was she was an absolute nightmare to deal with if she skipped her nap.
After weeks of pointless negotiations, giving her special sheets, a favorite toy to sleep with, locking her in her room with a child gate, moving nap time up and back, and all of these approaches failing miserably, I realized that she’d developed a sweet tooth, and an obsession with Dum-Dum lollipops. I bought a big bag of them, set them high on a shelf in our family room (in plain view, but unreachable to her), and told her, “If you nap today, you can have a lollipop as a reward.” She slept for an hour and a half that day, and as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair damp with sweat, face lined with wrinkles from her pillow case, sleepy eyes squinting in the sunlight, she pointed hopefully at the bag of treats and asked if she could have one. She got two, and we were on a roll.
Now both of my children wake from naps and promptly say, “Mommy, I napped. Can I have candy?” It’s the only time they get candy, and until reading that Parents article, I wondered if I was setting a bad precedent by rewarding them with food for sleeping. I secretly thought it was a great idea, not only because it worked as bribery (having the ability to go back into a non-napping kid’s room and say, “You can get up now, and not have candy, or you can go to sleep, and have candy” has a remarkable effect on my girls, especially because each one worries the other will get candy and she won’t), but also because the small dose of sugar seems to get their blood sugar back up quickly, getting the cranky post-nap phase over with faster. Chase it with a full cup of milk (protein, to keep the blood sugar at a good level after the sugar crash), and they are happy campers for the evening hours. Now, what’s an acceptable bribe for going all day without bickering with your sister?
My daughter was close to giving up naps when she turned three. There were two problems with this notion. One was that I had the baby napping at the same time, and I really, really wanted both kids to nap together so I could have a quiet hour to myself each afternoon. The second problem was she was an absolute nightmare to deal with if she skipped her nap.
After weeks of pointless negotiations, giving her special sheets, a favorite toy to sleep with, locking her in her room with a child gate, moving nap time up and back, and all of these approaches failing miserably, I realized that she’d developed a sweet tooth, and an obsession with Dum-Dum lollipops. I bought a big bag of them, set them high on a shelf in our family room (in plain view, but unreachable to her), and told her, “If you nap today, you can have a lollipop as a reward.” She slept for an hour and a half that day, and as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair damp with sweat, face lined with wrinkles from her pillow case, sleepy eyes squinting in the sunlight, she pointed hopefully at the bag of treats and asked if she could have one. She got two, and we were on a roll.
Now both of my children wake from naps and promptly say, “Mommy, I napped. Can I have candy?” It’s the only time they get candy, and until reading that Parents article, I wondered if I was setting a bad precedent by rewarding them with food for sleeping. I secretly thought it was a great idea, not only because it worked as bribery (having the ability to go back into a non-napping kid’s room and say, “You can get up now, and not have candy, or you can go to sleep, and have candy” has a remarkable effect on my girls, especially because each one worries the other will get candy and she won’t), but also because the small dose of sugar seems to get their blood sugar back up quickly, getting the cranky post-nap phase over with faster. Chase it with a full cup of milk (protein, to keep the blood sugar at a good level after the sugar crash), and they are happy campers for the evening hours. Now, what’s an acceptable bribe for going all day without bickering with your sister?
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Sleep
Ah, the plight of the light sleeper. Sure, sleep when the baby sleeps, everyone said. They forget to tell you that the baby’s longest nap will be at 10am, when you can’t possibly make yourself sleep. Or that her naps will last all of 40 minutes, and if you’re like me, and it takes you 20 minutes to fall asleep, and you’re a light sleeper who jerks back awake at the sound of the baby stirring, you’ll get maybe 3 minutes sleep per 40-minute baby nap, and feel like you’d have been better off not even trying.
My sister is not a light sleeper. She’s one of those “anywhere, anytime” sleepers, and she seems to be coping with her newborn quite well, grabbing a 20-minute nap here, a 30-minute nap there, sleeping in that deep, restful way that I didn’t until my baby was no longer a baby. I’m not saying she’s not tired. She has the puffiness around the eyes and slowed-down thought processes that are the hallmark traits of any new mom, but she doesn’t seem to be suffering from total sleep deprivation the way I was when my firstborn was only a month old.
Part of that is mindset, I think. I expected to handle those early weeks of motherhood quite well. I figured as a lifelong insomniac and light sleeper I’ve had plenty of practice at functioning on far too little sleep. My mistake was the definition of “functioning.” I meant sitting at a computer in a quiet office, editing technical abstracts for 8 hours a day, on a steady stream of coffee. Not having to navigate a 2am diaper explosion while a baby screams to be fed, or trying to figure out how to calm a baby in a swing she hates while taking the shortest shower on record.
My sister also has the benefit of my experience to help her get through. I think while I expected the best-case scenario, she anticipated a much harder one than she got. I have to admit, I have a measure of pride in that. She’s the big sister, the brave adventurous one, and it feels good to be the one going through a tough experience first and doling out helpful advice for a change.
My sister is not a light sleeper. She’s one of those “anywhere, anytime” sleepers, and she seems to be coping with her newborn quite well, grabbing a 20-minute nap here, a 30-minute nap there, sleeping in that deep, restful way that I didn’t until my baby was no longer a baby. I’m not saying she’s not tired. She has the puffiness around the eyes and slowed-down thought processes that are the hallmark traits of any new mom, but she doesn’t seem to be suffering from total sleep deprivation the way I was when my firstborn was only a month old.
Part of that is mindset, I think. I expected to handle those early weeks of motherhood quite well. I figured as a lifelong insomniac and light sleeper I’ve had plenty of practice at functioning on far too little sleep. My mistake was the definition of “functioning.” I meant sitting at a computer in a quiet office, editing technical abstracts for 8 hours a day, on a steady stream of coffee. Not having to navigate a 2am diaper explosion while a baby screams to be fed, or trying to figure out how to calm a baby in a swing she hates while taking the shortest shower on record.
My sister also has the benefit of my experience to help her get through. I think while I expected the best-case scenario, she anticipated a much harder one than she got. I have to admit, I have a measure of pride in that. She’s the big sister, the brave adventurous one, and it feels good to be the one going through a tough experience first and doling out helpful advice for a change.
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