I really, really thought that once kids stopped napping, they went to bed earlier.
I really, really convinced myself that once my kid stopped napping, she would go to bed earlier.
Especially in the winter. When it’s dark.
But no. She’s not napping. And she’s happily up until after 9pm. And then she’s up by 7am.
Oh, we can put her to bed earlier. But then one of us is checking on her every five minutes until after 9pm. It’s way easier to just let her be up.
I remember begging to stay up until 9pm so, considering my crappy memory, I must have been twenty something. Okay, I was more like ten. But I vividly remember it; staying up to watch the whole episode of Magnum PI was a huge deal.
I don’t know why I was allowed to watch Magnum PI, but not stay up until 9 to watch the whole thing.
Either my parents were on to something or they set my internal clock for the rest of my life: I need sleep. I can stay up, but I have to sleep in accordingly. I’m not one of those freaks people who can function on 3 or 4 hours sleep.
Mr.Q’s hardly a night owl either.
So, where does she get this? How long will it last? Do I really need to put her in soccer to tire her out enough to fall asleep at a reasonable hour? Have I inherited my mother’s inappropriate sense of reasonable hour?
When do I get an evening???
Oh, right. After she’s moved out.
Now, I’m not begrudging our time. The evening is the only time during the week that we get to spend together and we both get to play like three-year olds. I just need to stop setting expectations of The Way Things Will Be.
Because, invariably, the Won’t. And it might actually be for the Better.