Goodbye summer, hello alarm clock

 

At 11 am today, I realize we have a problem. Tomorrow school starts, and we are utterly incapable of getting up on time. I have always considered it one of the most attractive aspects of summer: you can sleep when and where you want. Unfortunately, my children have inherited this tendency; it is not uncommon to see one of them building a nest in the pantry at 3 in the afternoon in order to get some shut-eye, or sit around eating a sandwich at midnight. Permissive parenting? Probably, but we are who we are. It’s a difficult thing, fighting that internal clock. Especially since I’d rather sleep all day and work all night. There is just something very peaceful about the world when it’s dark outside and the neighbors are quiet. Vampirism would be right up our alley. Well, minus the blood drinking things, of course.

About two weeks before school starts, I begin making some vague comments about ‘going to bed on time’, which I never reinforce. This is why today, on the very last day of summer vacation, my daughter Isabella announces she is going to sleep all day. She believes you can fight three months of messed up schedules by staying in bed for 24 hours. She’s welcome to try; I am a disorganized parent and I don’t have any better ideas. Also, I tend to fall for empty promises, every single time.

That she is in dire need of some extra sleep becomes painfully obvious when, at 1 in the afternoon, she starts to mouth off. I ask her to go to the basement and find some missing shoes, and she says: “Do I have to?” Before I know it, the words “Fine, forget it,” come out of my mouth. Except now she suddenly wants to do it, and I’m not having it. Want to be rude? That means all bets are off.
Wait, this is not the way we planned on spending the last day of summer; now what?

Isabella sits down in a chair and pouts for a while, but then has to admit to herself she is indeed very tired and goes to bed. I leave her be for a while; it’s the very best option when we’re both moody. When I check on her later, she is fast asleep. When she wakes up, she is in a better mood and very grateful when I make a peace offering: ice cream sundaes, with all the trimmings.

“I don’t want mine with fruit! Fruit is stupid!” Her four-year-old brother screams. Where the heck did that come from? Oh, that’s right: I have another sleep-deprived child. How could I forget? Were this still the middle of summer I wouldn’t worry about these perpetual mood swings. However, they both are starting school, which means they have to behave in front of non-family members. So I take his ice cream, stick it in the freezer for later, and put him to bed in turn.

This is what I’m good at: I allow my kids to go without sleep, and then punish them with forced naps when they get cranky. Maybe, with the beginning of the school year, it’s time for another parenting refresher course. But first, I need a nap.

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