On the Lost Art of Independent Play...

It's a happy little routine we've fallen in to. It's evolved and changed beyond recognition since the early routines of my firstborn, but right now, I'm perfectly contented with our little schedule. Typically, I know it will all be thrown to the wind with a new arrival in June, so right now, I'm savouring every moment of the "calm before the storm"...

The girls were always post-lunch nappers, and from their very earliest days, getting them into a good napping routine was high on my priority list. It meant happy babies. It meant sane Mama. It meant a lot of sacrifices too. I didn't, and still don't, go out for lunch much, and between 12 and 3 is pretty much a write-off for any social activity, unless people want to come to me.

But boy has it been worth it. Our littlest lady heads up to bed around 1pm, and doesn't reappear, often, until around 3.30pm, and my big girl... well, with the help of a gro-clock, she has been learning the art of keeping herself entertained for an hour every day in her bedroom.

I think kids amusing themselves is becoming a bit of a lost art. They are growing up in a world surrounded by high energy, visuals and over-stimulation. Ipads, mobile phones, TV screens and laptops are part of their everyday. I didn't know what a single one of those things was until I was at least ten (excepting the TV!) Children get "bored" way quicker I think, and need constant play dates, activity and entertainment... don't get me wrong. Our girls are well acquainted with all the above, and I think they have their place, but I sometimes wonder if our children are growing up in a world that is over-screen-saturated.

Which is why we've worked hard to teach our girls to play alone. It sounds anti-social, and it sounds dated, but I remain utterly convinced by it. It gives them much needed daily quiet and respite, it teaches them to appreciate silence, it encourages their independence and their imaginations.

And its not an entirely selfless act, I'll admit... an hour of total space every lunchtime is a lifeline for a Mama of preschoolers. I genuinely mean it when I say I don't know how people do the constancy and intensity of it otherwise... its often the first (and only!) full cup of tea I'll drink in a day. A chance to think, space to breath, and an opportunity to have uninterrupted peace too.


And when my big girl comes down after an hour, we have another hour while baby sister sleeps on for Mama and Ava time. After an hour of space, I'm energised, enthusiastic and much more able to spend the hour doing something productive with her. Its our together time. I try to make sure I'm not distracted or doing other jobs around the house (that's what my mornings are for!) That one hour, I am hers - to draw with her, play her games, prepare activities, chat, bake... every day a little bit different. But I'm savouring it all up because I know this golden hour will disappear in September when she heads off to school.

And then, I'm hoping, praying that the cycle will continue as baby sleeps (!!), and Heidi learns the lost art of independent play, followed by Mama time, too...

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At the top of the stairs...

The girls were in bed, we had settled ourselves on the sofa with a cup of tea and a chocolate (well... me, anyway) when Dave popped upstairs to get something. Within seconds, he was back down...

"Bring the camera!" he whispered, disappearing back out the door.

I jumped the stairs, two at a time, camera in hand and froze at the top. There spread across the landing was our big girl.

Fast asleep.

 
Seeing her there, dreaming happily on the landing, reminded me of my own childhood. My sister and I, sometimes crouching at the top of the stairs, cuddling soft toys and wide-eyed, fighting sleep; listening to the comforting sound of our parent's familiar voices; the white noise of a kettle boiling; the quiet drone of the television... enough to send toddler eyes bobbing.

We picked her up and she stirred. Eyes flitting open and a lazy smile. Laying her back in her bed she rolled over and returned to dreamland. And I walked down those stairs putting all those memories of the day's toddler tantrums to rest.

These are the moments I want to remember.

The tale of three girls...

There was once a tale of three girls...

One of them didn't want to sleep - at nap time she sat in her bedroom and climbed onto the window sill to watch the world go by, she read and sang and played and cried wolf a thousand times that she needed the toilet (which she didn't)... and made her Mama tired with all the running up and down the stairs. She was the-girl-who-didn't-want-to-sleep.

The second little girl loved her sleep. She would sleep all day if she could. Anywhere was fine. Just as long as she got a little shut-eye at any opportunity. Of course, pink bunny generally had to be to hand. She slept through all the noise that the-girl-who-didn't-want-to-sleep made most of the time. Her Mama was thankful for that. But sometimes she would get woken. And then she would be grumpy. And fall asleep in other random places. Like her Jumperoo. That was the-girl-who-loved-her-sleep.

The third girl wished she could sleep. She had so much to do she went to bed very late, and the-girl-who-didn't-want-to-sleep didn't let her get any rest during the day, so she kept on her cycle of going to bed late and getting up early and getting no rest in the middle. That was the-girl-who-wished-she-could-sleep.

And so they ended up three grumpy girls. Oh dear.

The moral of the story?

Get good sleep.

I think Heidi's got it sussed. I'm making it official. Bed time this week: 10.30pm. If I put it on here, I've got to stick to it... right?!

PS - apologies for the very bad quality of photos... they were taken by a rather tired me on my phone!