Night Symphony

I've always been a night owl. I am far more productive and energized after the sun goes down. I do my best to get my children to bed at a reasonable time, but I think that from an early age they've picked up cues from me that 9:00 p.m. is a good time to start a new project, get a snack, or watch a movie.

Around 10:00 p.m. things at our house start to wind down and everyone is usually asleep around 10:30. After that time, I am the conductor of a carefully orchestrated symphony that I try to keep silent for about 8 hours.

Almost everyone at my house (pets included) is a lite sleeper. If one wakes up, the noise and activity almost always wakes another creating a musical domino effect. Most nights I wake up after 7 hours of sleep without having heard a sound or gotten up, but some nights it happens like this:

I wake up because the cat is climbing over me to get to the dresser. I try to grab her and put her gently on the floor, but if I'm too slow, she gets to the dresser and jumps to the floor. The impact on the floor makes a small, but audible thud and I hear the dog's tags click as she lifts her head. If I'm already out of bed and on my way to Rachel's room (where the dog sleeps), I can sometimes quietly get her back to sleep, but if she hears the cat going down the hall, she'll be up and after her. The dog's little nails click on the hard wood floor as she runs down the hall. When she gets near the kitchen, she tries to stop, but never can, and she slams her body into the wall as she slides past the kitchen door. Click, click, click, as she tries to get her footing and run into the kitchen to investigate what the cat is doing. I'm on my way to the kitchen too and my goal is to gather up cat and dog and return to my own room with them, close the door and quietly pet them both until they are asleep. This has never happened. Before I can get them out of the kitchen I always here Kate call from her room, "Mom. Jane is up. Woo hoo! Jane? Is that you?" (Jane is our dog.)


Now I make an about face and head into Kate's room. This is the crucial part of the night. Kate is only 3 years old and she has the most difficult time going back to sleep. If she gets out of bed, she'll be awake for an hour and as long as she's up, restless, and talking (Kate talks constantly when she's awake) Jane and Nikita (the cat) will stay up and they will all feed off one another having a musical jam session into the early morning.

If everything goes well, Jane follows me into Kate's room and curls up at the foot of her bed. I tuck Kate back in and assure her that all is well. Nikita carefully and quietly explores the house without incident and in 5 minutes I'm back in bed until the alarm goes off.

Other times things get really out of control with Jane in one room barking, Nikita in another knocking things off shelves, Kate sitting up in bed and narrating everything happening. On these occasions Rachel (who is 10) will wake up and join me in helping settle everyone back down.

I know that some of you are reading this and saying that this would never happen at your house. That I must be firm. That I must enforce bed time and insist that everyone stay in bed and quiet until morning. In theory that is a fabulous idea, but in practice it is less practical.

My husband is the one really heavy sleeper and he's never been to one of our night time concerts. However, when the interruptions in the nights cause the morning to come too soon, he gets up in the morning with the performers while I sleep in.

And in my sleep, I sometimes smile listening to our little symphony:
Jump. Thud. Patter. Patter. Clink. Patter. Clink. Click. Clink. Patter. Click. Click. Click. Patter. Click. Click. Click. Slide. Thump. Click. Click. Click. Patter. Mom. Jane is up. Woo hoo! Jane? Is that you? Click. Click. Patter. Click. Click. Patter. Mom? Where's Jane? Nice Doggy. Do you need attention? Mom, I think Jane needs attention? Bark. Bark. Bark. Click. Bark. Click. Hi Rachel. Are you awake? Bark. Bark. Rachel, Jane is barking. Thud. Bark. Bark. Bark. Click. Patter. Click.