I can remember how much I hated bedtime as a child.
At age two, my parents barricaded my door from top to bottom with baby gates so I couldn't leave my room at night. This is because I had the habit of night time wandering. I once helped myself to some donuts that they'd had stored on the top of the fridge. Another time I ate some of my dad's black shoe polish. You can easily see why they resorted to caging me in at night.
At five, I would negotiate with my parents that I could get up after my siblings fell asleep (I already had a younger brother and sister. My mom was 26.) I'm sure my parents hoped that I'd fall asleep while I waited. But I often did stay awake until both Shannon and Ben were asleep and then climb down the stairs to stay up late. Eventually my parents started locking the door at the bottom of the stairs so I couldn't bother them. I remember thinking even back then, "When I'm a grown up I'm going to stay up all night!"
Around age 10, I started resorting to more dramatic tactics. I'd lay in bed and pretend to cry as loudly as I could. I guess in a family of six kids, one gets a bit creative in attempts for attention. It didn't really work. They ignored me...I thought my fake crying sounded pretty authentic, personally. I shared a room with Shannon and we'd get pretty wound up some nights, doing headstands in our beds and talking loudly. The wall above my bed was dirty from my feet hitting it during my repeated headstands. She was much better at it than I was. But still, even when we were thumping the walls my parents were pretty good about ignoring us.
Fast forward to age 15: my mom started practicing the piano at night after we were all in bed. I'd yell, "How can I sleep with all that noise?!" Ack, I'm ashamed of that. When else was she suppose to practice? At that point she was homeschooling two (maybe three) of my siblings. Sometimes she'd keep playing despite my rudeness, sometimes she'd stop. If I could do it again, I wouldn't complain. I'd listen to her play and enjoy the fact that despite all the demands on her time, she still had a hobby that she enjoyed, a talent she worked to foster.
And now, as a mom, I start anticipating my kids' bedtime about two hours beforehand. Somedays I feel like I live for their bedtime. Let's have some peace and quiet in this house. I love bedtime.
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