There’s A Reason They Call It A ‘Sleepover’

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Let’s be real—I didn’t mean to wreck anything. Sure, I had a hand in it, but I was just a part of a wild series of events triggered by sugar and a little too much excitement. And if we’re being honest—when my mom isn’t around to judge—who in their right mind lets a bunch of six 5-year-olds crash at their place?

While other kids were celebrating with pizza parties or those creepy clowns, I was hosting a sleepover with Fudgie the Whale cake and a side of Nesquik. After indulging in that much sugar, the only way to go was down. And where better to land than the bathroom? Of course, that’s where a birthday princess would gather six girls for a game of pretend at the crack of dawn. “You, my minions, amuse us! Clamber onto the edge of the tub and hang from the shower curtain rod for our entertainment!”

You might think 5-year-old girls aren’t that tough, but you’d be mistaken. You get six of them hanging from a shower curtain rod, and suddenly it’s like an episode of a home renovation disaster show. When that rod came crashing down, we scattered like cockroaches, and I, the rat princess, was the first to flee. I made it to my room in 30 seconds flat. I dove into my sleeping bag, sweaty from the sprint, and pretended I’d been sleeping the whole time. When my mom came in, I stammered, “What was that noise?”

Innocent until proven guilty—unless your mom is the judge and you actually are guilty. In that case, it’s a stern “We’ll discuss this in the morning, and if you think you’re ever having another sleepover, think again.”

But let’s be real; none of us were actually sleeping, were we? We were up to no good. My mom quickly learned that sleepovers rarely involve actual sleep. She kept her word, making sure my sleepovers were limited to one friend at a time after that Fudgie fiasco. It certainly left a mark on her memory.

As for me, I thought I’d never allow my kids to have sleepovers until they were at least 10. But here we are—my oldest turned 10 last February and has had over 25 sleepovers since then.

Back when she was about to enter third grade, my daughter had been begging for a sleepover for ages. “Not yet,” I would say. “When Mommy and Daddy think you’re ready,” we would tell her. “We don’t know that family very well. They could have loaded guns lying around or snacks full of trans fats.”

She was eager to be with her friends all the time. I remember that feeling—wanting to chat until the early hours until the words started to blur together. That kind of friendship seems to be a rite of passage for the young, squeezing every second out of their time together.

Then luck struck! The year she entered third grade, we became close friends with a neighboring family who had a daughter going into third as well. The girls clicked instantly, and they even eat Oreos the right way—twisting them open first! So when both girls asked for a sleepover, I caved.

We sent my daughter to their place one night, and a week later, we hosted her friend. It went exactly as I expected: endless giggles, snacks galore, hand-drawn posters declaring their everlasting friendship, and a few reminders from me to “get to bed!”

It was both a milestone and just another day in the life—the way most moments of growing up feel. For the first time, I slept without her in the house, and it felt like I was watching the years speed by. I felt both proud and a bit sad that she didn’t call me in the middle of the night asking to come home. When they were at our house, I was warmed by their friendship, ready to embrace this new chapter in her life.

However, I totally forgot that sleepovers are more about staying up late than actually sleeping. Arranging blankets and sleeping bags was pointless, just like my attempts to get them to go to sleep. The girls were up late and rose with the sun, squeezing every moment together before the day began. They weren’t the little kids who would fall asleep after a long day of being overwhelmed anymore. Now, older girls are the ones who steal those precious sleeping hours, busy planning how to take on the world.

And while they didn’t destroy a bathroom, my daughter and her friend proved that a sleepover should really be called a wakeover. A snooze not. A stay-up-all-night!

Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride would definitely say, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Maybe we should just call it a giggletogether or a chattyallnight…

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In summary, sleepovers are less about sleep and more about late-night fun, friendship, and the inevitable chaos that comes with them. They can be a rite of passage for kids, and while you may think you’re prepared, expect the unexpected!