The five stages of sleep

Samson's school sends a little note home after each day with some basic info checked off. I had a good day/bad day; I ate/I didn't eat; I was happy/sad/resigned to the existential loneliness that the sandbox symbolizes. You know, the usual stuff.

Last Tuesday, and I remember it now because it's been going on all week at our house, Samson's note read: "I had a hard time staying on my cot." Apparently, not only would young Samson not take his nap, but he kept talking to the other kids as they were trying to sleep.

Lately, Samson has been taking longer and longer to get to sleep. We put him down last night at 7:15, and it took him nearly an hour to finally put head to pillow and head for the land of Nod.

Those of you without children are wondering, "why not just put him to bed later?"

The answer, of course, is because he's really tired (and totally crazy) by bedtime and keeping him up an extra hour would only prolong things.

So here, without further preamble, are the five stages of sleep as played out on a nightly basis at our house.

1. Denial --- This is the first and almost always follows the announcement of bedtime's imminence. Usually accompanied by bald-faced lies, like "No, it's not bedtime" and "I'm not tired," and my new favorite (especially since we've gone to daylight savings time) "It's not dark out."

2. Anger --- Depending on the night, this can involve a general surliness about getting pajamas on or more targeted announcements like "I don't want Daddy to read a story" and "I don't want to go in my crib." [Sidenote: I'm not sure that the twos are "terrible" so much as preferential. We are treated daily to a litany of things he wants or doesn't want.]

3. Bargaining --- Samson, by this point, begins the charm offensive. It's not unusual, amidst the pleas for "one more book" or claims of being hungry to catch a "Mommy's so pretty" being floated like a test balloon. It never works.

4. Depression --- It's been a while since we hit stage 4, but lately it's back, and it's usually just some crying. Occasionally, he'll also sing songs by the Smiths, but mostly it's just crying. And usually (and mercifully), it's brief.

5. Acceptance --- Slowly, and almost never without a few follow-up visits from one of us to fix the blanket, pick up a fallen La-La, or bring a desperately needed toy, Samson reaches this stage.

At which point, Vicki and I are exhausted --- the other reason we don't keep him up for the extra hour.