Mother of all parenting bugbears: sleep

A couple of weeks ago we took down Alice's crib and set up the twin bed that had been waiting in the garage. Alice had been asking for it and seemed tickled to have the deed done. At first. In the daylight.

Come nighttime, she suddenly wanted nothing to do with the big new bed. Since then we have been engaged in protracted, draining stand-offs every night at bedtime.

This was roughly the same age at which we transferred Edith from the crib to the twin bed and the same age at which she suddenly started resisting sleep with might and main. I don't know if it's something about the age three or something inherently intimidating about the big bed that would have upset the girls at any age. Back in 2008 Edith talked about being scared without the protective enclosure of the crib's bars. In fact, she talked tremulously about all kinds of fears that had suddenly emerged: snakes now hid under the bed, crocodiles lurked on the rug, robbers were outside the window. We got a bit of grief from other parents for humoring Edith in protracted evening wakefulness at this age, though I still don't know what we could have done to make her drift into slumber. But we did answer when she called out from her room, brought water, changed CDs, sat and rubbed her back, and sang songs. Many songs. It wasn't until a couple of years later that I felt affirmed by a handout from the American Academy of Pediatrics given to us by our pediatrician. In a nutshell, it said toddlers and preschoolers resisting bedtime are manipulating and should be resisted completely, to the point of barring the door with heavy furniture to keep them from bothering parents after hours. EXCEPT. If the child seems honestly scared--of the dark, of imagined monsters, etc.--then one should drop resistance and be compassionate, patient, and supportive for however long it takes for the child to get past the fear. About the time we moved to Colorado Edith's resistance to bedtime dissolved, whether because she had outgrown it or because in her new room she could now lie with her head on the pillow and have a clear sight line down the hall to the living room. These days she's as ready for bedtime as any adult when the hour arrives.

With Alice, it's less clear whether she's frightened or manipulating. She's not one to show her weaknesses. She's an "I can do it myself" kid rather than a "help me" kid. If you smile at something unintentionally funny she's just said, or throw her a concerned look when she trips and falls, she'll catch your eye, scowl, and tell you fiercely to "Stop it! Don't look at me!" One would be tempted to think she's never scared.

On the other hand, for a kid who usually likes demonstrating mastery of a new skill, she refuses to get under the covers of the new bed. She won't even lie in it lengthwise. She lies sidewise, on top of the covers, and she makes sure the music is loud and her light on. We're trying to figure out how to interpret a child who puts on so much tougher an act than her sister all around and whether and where to draw lines--about lights on, CD volume, and plaintive calls to the living room. Is this the same intimidated young child we saw three years ago in a slightly different skin, or a different kid entirely who needs different handling?

I know we're not supposed to wish away our children's early years. I know "it goes so fast." But so does one's own health and sanity. I look forward to the years when everyone in our house embraces sleep. Or keeps happy solitary vigil if they don't.