By West Side Mom
It’s fall, late afternoon, and the sun has made its way over to the Upper West Side. In just a few short hours it will set, meaning relief is on the way for anyone living with children who have not quite learned how to tell time.
As Simon & Garfunkel once sang, “Hello darkness, my old friend.”
Unlike in the summer, the earlier fall of darkness means no long discussion about why my children must go to bed even though the sun is still out. As the mom of a two and five-year-old, it’s an argument I’ve become very familiar with.
Those who don’t have young children relish the time of year when the days become longer. It means evening runs in the park, long dinners with friends, and what feels like extra time to finish all of the tasks we busy Upper West Siders try to squeeze into a day.
But for those of us with young children, long summer days mean more waking time with our little angels. Playgrounds stay open later, and children are given a second boost of solar energy late in the afternoon, when parents are ready to curl up on the couch and relax.
I suppose if you live in a house, this seasonal change might not be such a big deal. But, for us urban dwellers living stacked on top of each other in buildings made of steel, concrete, and wooden floors that transmit the slightest sound, that extra duration of solar energy means the need to repeatedly remind the apple(s) of our eyes to stop rolling, running, stomping, and jumping around the apartment.
There are people below us!
And let’s not forget another wonderful aspect of fall. The beginning of a new school year.
It’s a clean slate for kids and parents alike: fresh new notebooks, pencils, and backpacks; every day seeing what wonderful new things your children have learned — and which virus or bacteria has hitched a ride home with them.
It only took one week of school for my son to come home with what was disguised as a slight cough. Lucky for me, he avoided serious illness, but instead passed his little germs to me.
For four days, I had a fever and lost the ability to breathe through my nose, which would have probably sidelined a childless person, but when you have kids, you don’t get sick days. To add insult to injury, your kids (and probably your partner) have no sympathy for you. They don’t care that your head is pounding, and you have chills. Our loving children still throw fits when you serve them breakfast on the wrong color plate.
I know what you’re thinking — stop complaining.
This is what you sign up for when you decide to have kids — but screw that. My only recent “reward” for showing up and parenting through sickness and health was a cheerful text on the class group chat letting us know that someone’s kid has lice.
But anyway, darkness is falling, and it’s time to put the kids to bed.
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Interesting, this sounds wonderful but I am not familiar with this ‘early bedtime’ phenomenon as my kids prefer to stay up and tinker with Legos no matter the suns status.
“I follow the night
Can’t stand the light
When will I begin
To live again?”
I hear you about the parental sick days. We work full time (one 10 min commute and one 60 min commute) and live in a small apartment with two kids and we stick to the same routine 80% of the time. It requires a focused, consistent, and dark routine to override natural light cues. 60-90 minutes before 7 pm (which will change as they grow). The goal is to trick their brains into thinking it’s night by simulating darkness and cool temperatures, which promotes the release of melatonin. We installed blackout curtains/shades, dim the house lights, create a cool room and use white noise. Then we follow a consistent, calming routine 30-40 minutes before bed which signals sleep is coming. Rambunctious play and any screens stop early, warm bath, grooming/pjs, quiet time in bedroom with red/amber low lights/reading lamp only, a book or story with cuddles and lullaby. Lights out around 7 pm. Then it’s easy for us to be quiet and pass out on the couch until it’s back to work for us. We have a big analog clock in their room and taped arrows on it for wakeup and bedtime. We taught them that wakeup/bedtime is based on the clock, not the sun. In early morning, they eventually learned that, unless they needed something or there was an emergency, they can play in their room with a special basket of toys until mommy/daddy wakeup time if we weren’t already awake or join us on weekends. For travel, we bring large binder clamps to hold drapes together (can use hotel hanger if they have clips on them in a pinch), painters tape to temporarily cover any lights in room when dark (TV, power strip) and use a towel at the base of the door to block light from brightly lit halls. I hope parents find this helpful. I admit I am relieved when the clocks change because it is easier.
Your poor children. They are being boxed in and containerized. They will have absolutely no idea what to do in the real world if you continue to create and impose such an artificial one on them. There are MANY other ways to help children learn to get to sleep, but I fear this level of imposed control is benefitting you, the parents, more than anyone. Good luck when they try to go to a sleep-over, or have one themselves!
Odds are strong that Louisa, criticizing the parent post above here, has no kids. Or, at least, no well adjusted kids that are still in contact.
Three very well adjusted children and we are a very close family.
Do you have children?
Three very well adjusted children and we are a very close family.
We’re a full-time working family, small apartment, two kids, using a consistent sleep routine to manage bedtime. To override natural light cues, we simulate nighttime 60–90 minutes before bed with blackout curtains, dim lighting, cool temperatures, and white noise. Around 6:30 pm, we begin a calming 30–40 minute ritual: no screens or rough play, warm bath, grooming, quiet time with red/amber lights, reading, cuddles, and lullabies. Lights out is around 7 pm. We taught our kids to follow a big analog clock with taped arrows for wakeup and bedtime, not the sun. In the early morning, they play quietly with a special toy basket until we’re up, unless there’s an emergency. For travel, we use binder clips for drapes, painter’s tape to cover lights, and a towel under the door to block hallway light. When clocks change, it’s a relief—it makes the routine easier. Hope this helps.
I had no choice what plate my food was served on as a child. Glad I’m not a parent today.
“to repeatedly remind the apple(s) of our eyes to stop rolling, running, stomping, and jumping around the apartment.
There are people below us!”
I’m so glad there are other parents who actually do this too. I can’t believe how many other parents (who probably didn’t grow up here) who do not raise their kids with the same consideration.
I’m trying to imagine my mother putting up with a tantrum over the color of a plate I or my sister preferred. No way.