The bedtime routine - is important for children

An established bedtime procedure for the children also benefits the parents. We are better able to cope with hectic days if we know we'll be able to count on some time alone together every evening . . .

Childhood experts agree that a nightly routine is important for children. It promotes sound sleeping habits and early toilet training, and increases their chances of an Ivy League education as well as a strong, stable marriage. An established bedtime procedure for the children also benefits the parents. We are better able to cope with hectic days if we know we'll be able to count on some time alone together every evening to catch up on the day's events, discuss childrearing issues, renew our relationship, and eat brownies.

In our house, the bedtime routine has been honed to a fine art. The linchpin of the system is a pictographic bedtime chart that our daughter consults each step of the way to see what she needs to do next. The authority of a written protocol helps ensure a smooth process.

Of course, we also have fixed bedtimes. My wife and I decided that by starting at 7:00, we can get Holly in bed by 7:30 and then put the baby down in quiet and comfort. So every night at 8:00, we begin by shouting, "My God, Holly, it's way past your bedtime! Stop that at once, and get ready for bed." She cooperates by immediately announcing that she will not under any circumstances take a bath. By agreement, my wife and I look at each other with crestfallen eyes and remember that on bath nights, we are supposed to start at 6:30. Our goal is to give our daughter a nice, soothing bath on alternate nights; in practice, she gets at least two or three baths a month.

After settling the bath question, we remind Holly to consult the bedtime chart to see what comes next. Once we've found the chart (often before 8:30), she looks at the cute toilet that my wife drew and allows me to carry her kicking and screaming to the bathroom. After a concerted two-or three-millisecond effort on the toilet, she hops off and announces that she does not have to go.

Enter Samuel. He's usually swallowing Legos quietly in the next room, or screaming loudly for attention from whichever parent is in charge of Holly. This allows the free parent time to sneak into the kitchen with a book and start eating brownies until discovered AWOL.

After bathroom comes pajamas. At this point, by universal agreement, Holly absolutely must have whichever pair is in the laundry This allows for much running up and down stairs as well as vocal exercise to release tensions of the day

Once we get pajamas on (with very few tears on our part), we begin the Battle of the Toothbrush. Although we point meaningfully to my wife's beautiful, white, well-brushed teeth and then to my own neglected moonscape pitted with metal, Holly seems neither impressed nor convinced. Some day, a lone inventor working in a basement shop will patent the chocolate toothbrush and be set for life. Until then, the brushing of teeth will resemble a small war fought with tactical nuclear weapons.

Finally we are ready for hugs, kisses, and a story. That is, we are ready as soon as the bulb from the nightlight has been replaced, Blankey has been found, a glass of water has been fetched (with an ice cube, but not a big one), Julia has been tucked into her doll bed, Sam has been loudly and emphatically denied permission to join Holly in bed, Claudia has been tucked in with Julia, and three bookshelves have been combed before revealing the same book we've read every night for three months.

Seeing such a smooth routine in action gives us as parents a warm, competent feeling. Both our children are sleeping quietly by 11:00 almost every night. And very seldom these days does dawn find the four of us asleep in an exhausted heap on the living room floor.

COPYRIGHT 1994 Mothering Magazine
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