Here’s to You, Moms Who are Good at Bedtime

I think maybe it’s a problem of pacing. I just use up all my good Mom Magic and have nothing left by bedtime. I hadn’t really thought about how bad I am at bedtime until a friend of mine was talking about “tucking in” her child and I remembered that is a thing some people do. That is a thing I USED to do.

Rebecca Tredway Photography

I think it was when I was pregnant with our fourth child and our oldest was four. Things started getting ridiculous. When you have a lot of kids, the whole process goes something like this:

Get youngest kid in pajamas and brush their teeth. Sit in the rocking chair. Read them a story. Get interrupted by toddler who needs you to push that button on his obnoxious electronic toy that he can’t figure out how to push. Go back to the story. Get interrupted by big kid asking about a snack. Now the baby in pajamas wants a snack and is crying. Get everyone a snack. Brush teeth again and get on fresh pajamas for the baby (because you got mushy banana on them). Back to the story. Skip most of the middle and make up an ending. Sing song to the baby and stare directly into his sweet eyes until THE TODDLER COMES IN SCREAMING about something it takes you five minutes to figure out was a problem with an imaginary friend she wants you to mediate. Go back to singing the song. Put the baby in the crib. While backing out of the room, big kid comes busting in because he can’t find the bear he always sleeps with. Baby is now crying and has to be settled again.

You see where I’m going with this? This is just what it takes to get ONE KID tucked in and you still have more kids to go. At this rate bedtime starts around 7:30 p.m. and winds down at approximately 2 in the morning. No thank you.

Somewhere along the line I started reading a story on the couch, giving hugs in the living room and saying, “Goodnight! Mommy loves you!” and that was it. Walk yourself to your room. Put yourself in bed. Turn out your own light. You’ve got this.

Of course this doesn’t always work, but my kids know once I have said, “Goodnight” it is only going downhill from here. If they call me into the room, it is not the sweet smiling mom that kissed their forehead at the bottom of the stairs that is going to come in the room. It is a lady who has used up all her patience and good humor for the day and just says a very seriously whispered, “WHAT?” when she walks in. This mama is tired. She’s ready to be done. She does not have time for your “what’s for breakfast tomorrow” insanity. When she leaves the room she says, “GOODNIGHT. MOMMY LOVES YOU.” which even though the words are identical, doesn’t sound quite the same as it did earlier.

There are exceptions. The newborn months. The middle of the night bad dreams and wet beds. The late night chats about deeper things. The fevers and coughs that find me in the rocking chair with a little one pressed against my chest. The foster child that needs to know this is a safe place with people who care. This is what motherhood is about and I do it willingly even when I’m exhausted. But I just don’t have it in me to press through that exhaustion so I can read one more round of “Goodnight Moon” or sing one more personalized song. I read and sing to my kids, I’ve just found it’s a little more convincingly sweet when I do it BEFORE I’ve reached my parental breaking point. . . like before 9 p.m.

I tell you all this in case there are more of me out there. More of us who have forgotten tucking a child in was a thing on the Good Mom checklist. Or maybe we remember and feel guilty, but our tuck ins start super sweet and end with mother and child in tears because we’re trying so hard to embrace this precious time, but we’re just so exhausted. If you’re looking at my family and wondering “How does she do it?” and envisioning the elaborate bedtime routine you do with your one kid and multiplying it by six, just remind yourself that I don’t do that. I don’t do all the things that Good Moms are supposed to do. And I don’t think my kids are suffering. (*I know there are those of you who have kids that have medical needs that require round the clock care. I am giving you a virtual hug. We moms do what we have to do even when it isn’t what we ideally want.)

I don’t do bedtimes, but I’m pretty much always available to my kids. I make dinners and lunches and breakfasts and snacks. I do baths and mediate conflicts and kiss cheeks and sing random songs (Although I do not make up fictional stories with my child as the main character. It’s just not a skill I have, but I know some of you are awesome at it. Well done.). I love these kids fiercely and do my absolute best to be gentle and kind. . . which is part of why I try to clock out before my patience does.

So if you are a mom who is awesome at bedtime, I just want to high five you. I’m proud of you! I have a lot of admiration for the intentional ways you’re making sweet memories with your kids at bedtime. I hope you are rewarding yourself well with chocolate or nachos or a hot dog– whatever does it for you– after you’ve backed out of the room and quietly shut the door (or, more likely, left it open a crack with the hall light on). I really do believe those are precious moments your kids will remember and speak of fondly to their own children.

And if you don’t do bedtime, I think it’s okay. There are nights my husband spends sweet moments doing the nighttime routine with our kids and there are times I let a bigger kid tuck the smaller kids in with a story and song. This parenting thing doesn’t always end up the way we envisioned it when we saw ourselves endlessly rocking our toddlers or playing Barbies on the floor with our Kindergartener or taking family bike rides with our big kids. Sometimes we have to intentionally acknowledge all the important things we do with our kids instead of focusing on the ways we aren’t what we thought we’d be.