I sing to my kids at bedtime. Let me re-phrase that: I mete out warnings and serve as a physical barrier between my two children in my bed, as I croon behavior management-aborted phrases of three songs–the same three songs–in the same order, every night. The boys employ strict rules around this nightly routine, following in our family tradition of pre-dream-time dictatorship.
Singing may not commence until all bedroom lights are turned off, pajamas donned and teeth brushed, and younger brother has planted himself firmly in the crook of my left armpit, older brother in my right. Sounds sweet, yes?
Our bedtime ritual begins with a simple “The Moon is Up” lullaby lifted from a treacherous children’s CD of yore–when yore meant preferring treacherous Children’s music to treacherous children. Song one typically proceeds smoothly, so long as I don’t drift off.
Did you just say smile upon the hours? Mom, it’s smile upon the flowers. Did you just say You will always have a friend no matter who you are? Mom it’s no matter where you are. Mom, it’s not Come On Eileen, it’s Good night Irene!
Next, I sing two rounds of “Goodnight Irene” customizing each round by using the boys’ names instead of Irene. In retrospect, it wouldn’ve been much easier to name both boys Irene. Under no circumstances may one brother sing, lip-synch, hum, or stare devil-eyed and grinning in silence at other brother during namesake-brother’s song, and I must alternate whose song gets sung first with sufficient frequency to avoid bedtime boy-breakdown and bed-banishment.
See also: Lip-synching and/or silly dancing while I sing not-Goodnight Irene songs is permissible so long as brothers share equally festive mood at exactly the same time. Equilibrium among moods varies greatly, so sudden silliness carries risk of provoking brother in-fighting resulting once again in boy-breakdowns and bed-banishment. Even and especially the most festive moods can result in physical injury given the bed’s trampoline tendencies and boy-t0-Mom’s schnoz proximity.
Husband’s “iPhone Mommy” recording of lullaby trio may be used in Mommy’s absence should she sustain schnoz injury, dare to attend an evening meeting, or in lieu of pissed-off robot sounding Mommy who on fourth attempt at “Soon It’s Gonna Rain” (Too fast! Wait. Did you sing my song? No you didn’t. NO YOU DIDN’T. Start over! I missed it! I made a baaaaaad choiiiiiice–boy breakdown) employes the dreaded bed-banishment defense.
On rare occasion and time permitting, an additional lullaby request may be entertained. Thrilled to oblige a recent request, I chose one of my favorite songs, “No One is Alone.” Even as I sung, I realized the narrative made a rather poor choice for sending my children off alone to their dreams, but rather than overindulge and overprotect, I over Bernadette Petered:
Sometimes people LEAVE YOUUUU, halfway through the wooooods. Others may DECEIVE YOUUUUU, you decide what’s good. You decide ALONE, but no one is ALONE…
Seven: “I remember when I was alone at the Zoo. I was looking at the otters with you guys and all of a sudden I was the only one looking at the otters and I couldn’t find you guys anywhere and I sat down until you found me and it was a long time before you found me.”
Ten: “That’s not as bad as what happened to me a the water park.”
Seven: “We were trying to find you and that was serious.”
Me: “And you both did exactly what you should do and we found you, so great job showing your resilience in a difficult situation!”
Ten: “And we didn’t pick a meeting place because you said we didn’t need a meeting place.”
Me: “Yes, and I would make some different choices now! See I learn from my mistakes too! Now that we’ve shared our scariest memories–
Seven: “That wasn’t my scariest memory, my scariest memory–
Me: “–how about each of us shares a favorite memory!”
(silence)
(followed by silence)
(followed by…)
Seven: “Remember when Dad was cleaning the car and I burned my finger?”
Sweet dreams!!
***
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What a fabulous routine!!! And such a relief that you learned from YOUR mistake (good thing you only made that one) 🙂
The “no lip syncing, etc during brother’s song” rule cracks me up. Siblinghood is brutal (on parents!)
WOW. You have far more patience than I! Our bedtime routine is MUCH shorter. I *can* relate to being a human “boy barrier”, however. Not just at bedtime, but at the dinner table, while walking in the mall, while waiting in line (for anything)…you get the picture. (And I’m sure you live it, too!)
My husband has his own unique bedtime song that his mother sang to him. He sings the first verse of “taps”, it’s the song they play at remembrance ceremonies, funerals and dusk in the military.
Day is done, gone the sun
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky
All is well, safely rest
God is nigh.
Oh, Ann, I love this.
My mother used to sing me lullabies every night and she favored anti-war songs or tunes from Broadway musicals. It was my fault for being born in 1968.
My sister and I never knew if she’d be chirping, “Why did the kids put beans in their ears?” or crooning, “The cruel war is raging…Johnny has to fight.”
It was a nightly crapshoot.
Plus, I’m reasonably sure we never had a meeting place.
Good times.
And Happy Mother’s Day to you.
I still sing to the youngest. I sing both You are my sunshine (but I say his name instead of sunshine) and teddy bear, teddy bear. We change the words. The teddy bear has been on the ceiling and in outer space and once he was in the mud but I said we needed to change that one because he couldn’t come back in until he was clean. Ain’t nobody got time to clean up muddy paw prints.