When you step into the world of parenting, it quickly becomes clear that routines are more than just schedules—they transform into rituals that can feel almost sacred. For those without children, this notion may seem peculiar. Picture this: my partner, Jenna, and I are enjoying a gathering when suddenly, one of us checks the time and realizes bedtime is approaching. With a knowing glance, we spring into action, as if an alarm has sounded. We gather our little ones, say a hurried farewell, and hit the road, racing against the impending chaos that is bedtime—a sort of emotional missile launch where tantrums are bound to explode.
Once you discover a routine that alleviates daily struggles—like dressing, table manners, or ensuring your little one doesn’t turn into a hangry monster—it’s easy to envision yourself as a devotee of some ancient parenting deity. Nowhere is this more evident than at bedtime.
Jenna and I take turns each night putting our toddler, Max, to bed. On my designated nights, I often find myself filled with dread, primarily because bedtime can be a mirage of peace. It’s the time of day when parenting is supposed to wind down, but it often just marks the beginning of a new set of challenges.
Max, despite missing his afternoon nap and expending energy like a tiny tornado, seems more energized than ever. So, I find myself indulging him with an extra story or a fun video clip, hoping to help him settle down. But instead, I often get a nonsensical response, like him shouting “spaghetti” followed by uncontrollable laughter.
Then the inevitable happens: I make a minor misstep. Perhaps I don’t tuck him in just right, or his beloved stuffed animals aren’t arranged to his satisfaction. Maybe I weave a make-believe tale that doesn’t feature his latest obsession—a capybara—despite the fact that he probably heard of it just moments ago. As my improvised story unfolds, I realize he’s not satisfied unless it includes a capybara in a rocket ship. If I try to salvage the narrative, I’m met with resistance as he insists he never asked for a rocket ship in the first place. At this point, it’s futile to continue the discussion; he’s clearly in that state of being—what I call ‘toddler tipsy.’
Once we reach this juncture, settling in for a “cuddle” session (which really means losing circulation in my limbs) becomes essential, as I know I’ll be there for a while. It resembles a reverse interrogation where Max, in increasingly loud and whiny tones, demands I fix my perceived errors. Little do I know, he doesn’t know what he wants either. All that’s clear is that he’s unhappy, and the good cop strategy has been abandoned—leaving me to deal with the aftermath.
A consistent bedtime ritual helps mitigate this chaos. At our home, bedtime is non-negotiable, and barring any natural disasters, our routine remains unchanged: we eat dinner, play, change into pajamas, watch a show, read a book, brush teeth, and then it’s off to bed. This is where the real fun begins.
Max loves to chat a bit before drifting off, which can be a precarious minefield of potential toddler tantrums, but I treasure these moments. His thoughts can lead anywhere—from playdates to wild scenarios involving “Darth Bader” riding a donkey while munching on pizza.
Every so often, a particular topic sticks. For a while, he was fascinated with barnyard animals and the role of sheepdogs. Then, out of nowhere, he began revisiting a serious subject—the war in Syria. He’d overheard something on the radio, and I explained that people had to leave their homes due to danger. This topic resurfaced frequently, with Max wanting to find Syria on our globe, even offering to help “fix all the houses” with his plastic hammer. His observations are sometimes humorous; he once quipped, “Daddy, in Syria, where the war is, the houses got broke. Yeah, there was probably a big bad wolf there.”
So, even though I often dread the bedtime routine, I genuinely look forward to it too. It serves as a perfect metaphor for parenting: it’s hard work filled with worries—about their health, safety, and even their table manners—but these challenges are often intertwined with delightful, unexpected moments.
For more insights on parenting and the journey of home insemination, check out our blog at Intracervical Insemination and learn more about fertility at Make a Mom. Additionally, if you’re interested in pregnancy and home insemination resources, Cleveland Clinic’s podcast is an excellent source.
In summary, bedtime with a toddler is a blend of anticipation and anxiety, where each moment holds the potential for both challenges and laughter. It’s this unpredictability that makes parenting a journey worth taking.