Slumber Party

It's been a quiet day. Alice had her first day of preschool. What a joy for all of us! This is the first time...ever...that Alice has seen me come to get her and actually *ignored* the fact. Ha ha ha! As we walk to the car she sighs, "Can I stay at preschool forever? I want to go where Mrs. Strom goes." Then she literally mopes around the house like I've never seen her mope before: listless, slumping shoulders, and a sober look on her face.

Of course, the moping may have something to do with her late night last night. Bobby had a meeting so I get her ready for bed while holding Robert. She's a bit sad for the final "good night", as always, but she perks up and asks if Robert can stay with her this time. I think about Robert's usual evening fussiness and how much I don't want to bounce him around the house all by myself that night, so I consent to an experiment. I tell her he can stay as long as he is happy. I put him on the bed right next to her and leave the room. That is 8 o'clock.

Bobby comes home at 8:30...the kids are talking, laughing, and reading stories.

Bobby and I chat about a few things that we don't normally get to talk about. It's a fulfilling discussion that brings me peace. The kids keep playing.

Bobby and I both get ready for bed at 9:30...they are STILL having a great time. Not just Alice, but Robert, too! He's cooing and smiling and watching Alice do whatever she does. She stays on the bed right by him the whole time. Half the time, she doesn't even involve him in the conversation, but he still finds her absolutely fascinating. This kid LOVES Alice.

9:45, Bobby asks how long we should let this continue. I smile. I'm curious to see how long it can last. Heck, I certainly can't entertain the boy THAT long. He might have been up this whole time fussing at us, anyway. And at least we got a good stretch of uninterrupted adult conversation out of it. I say, leave them be.

About 9:55, Alice lays down, pulls the covers up to her shoulder, and turns her back to Robert. She's still talking, but her eyes are closed. He starts to get nervous. He squawks a bit. I come in and get him. Alice doesn't hear me, apparently, because 5 seconds later she bursts into tears, "I wanted Robert in my room!" True to my word, I put him back. Squawking doesn't technically count as unhappiness. She sits up again and reads him another book, but the story is full of yawns.

At 10:04, two whole hours after I initially leave them alone together, Alice lays down again to sleep. Robert squawks. She doesn't do anything. He squawks louder and whinnies like a horse and squeals and makes bubbles but Alice doesn't respond. Then he starts to cry. Alice yells, "Mom, he's crying!" and that's my cue to take him away. Both kids are dead asleep within 10 minutes and the whole house is dead asleep in 20.

A curiously entertaining and educational experiment. Let's see if she asks for Robert again tonight. Hmmmm.

By the way, Alice's preschool teacher Mrs. Strom is just right for Alice. Just right for me, too. She won our love and trust early on during her summer home visit. I can't really explain why I like her so much beyond this feeling that she's a rich soul. Does that make sense? She's focused and calm with the kids. Not affectionate, but deeply caring and respectful. It's calming to be around her. I feel she's in control and comfortable doing her work. Alice is in good hands.