Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Good Night

Last night I put Owen’s mattress on the floor of Jack’s room and both boys were giddy at the thought of their “sleepover".”  I find this quite funny because we have been sleeping all together in my room for several weeks, and before that, they had bunk beds.  Anyway, a mattress on the floor was novel and Owen and Jack were going to make a party of it.

It is spring break, and so I was quite lax with bedtime. Tuck-in was an hour late, and I let the boys chatter away after I turned the lights off and went downstairs.

After a while Owen came out complaining that he was ready to sleep and Jack was still talking and being silly.  I suggested that Owen not engage Jack – so Jack would get bored and go to sleep. This is what Owen has used as his method for months now – and it has worked for him.

Several minutes later, I heard Jack pleading with Owen to “come back!”  After a few minutes, his words were getting quicker and more desperate.   But Owen had had enough of Jack and had decided he would rather sleep on the floor than be kept awake by his brother.  I felt sad for Jack- he really hates to be alone- but it was a pretty natural consequence.  (If you want someone to sleep in your room, you have to let them actually sleep…) I figured Jack was learning a good lesson. (And I was frankly pleased to NOT be involved.)

Soon Jack was sobbing.  Finally he came to the top of the stairs, and cried, “Mama, Owen is sleeping in his own room and he doesn’t even have a mattress!!” 

“It sounds like Owen is solving a problem that he has,”  I responded.

Jack’s increased sobs faded as he headed back in the direction of his bed.

Owen, who has a big heart, said, “Jack, if you stop crying and are quiet, I will come back in.” 

“No,” Jack protested.  “It. Won’t. Work!”

“It will.  I will come in.  You just have to be quiet, and stop crying first.”

“I can’t stop crying until you come back in,” Jack choked out.

Crying and talking continued and I tuned out.  A few minutes later, all was quiet upstairs.  I vaguely wondered if Owen had given in and gone back despite the crying, or if Jack had given in and become quiet.

If Jack is honestly sad in his crying – and not just trying to get his way (and Owen can definitely tell the difference) then Owen will usually give in.  Then Jack will immediately comply with whatever Owen had wanted.  But Jack will sometimes hold his ground to the bitter end.

When I went to check on the boys before I went to bed, I found both boys sleeping soundly.  Owen was asleep on his floor, his duvet folded precisely in thirds underneath him.  His frogs and his blanket wrapped around him.  I carried Owen back to his mattress – Jack would be happy to see him there in the morning, and Owen would get  a good night’s rest.

 

Tonight Owen announced that he would sleep in his own room.  Jack quickly responded that he was going to be very quiet tonight and Owen should stay.  Owen agreed, and the only utterance  after I turned the lights off was, “Good night, Mama.”

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Not Your Mother’s Lane Change

I remember lane changes as being a family affair when I was a child.  A slightly terrifying and anxiety-ridden family affair.  The lane change would be announced in a panicky voice and all were expected to take heed and participate!  Each occupant in the car did their own head-check and some verbal opinion of whether or not there was impending doom.  If there was no screech of tires or honking, the change was successful.  The elevated heartbeats lingered for several minutes.

Sadly, five-point harnesses in child carseats  make turning around almost impossible, and thus have made family lane changes obsolete…or so I thought.

On the drive to school this morning, I turned on my blinker to indicate that I was going to change lanes.   Jack  suddenly screamed, “Mama!  They are shooting their white bullets at us!!”  The urgency in his voice alarmed me at first.  Then I looked and saw that the freeway lines did indeed resemble moving bullets.  “Shields up!” I yelled as I crossed through the bullets. Then, “Oh no, I think we’ve been hit!”    Jack quickly quieted his voice, “It’s ok, I think we are going to make it!”  I scared him a little with my gusto, I think.  The lane change was successful, and our elevated heartbeats lingered for several minutes.