Is there anything more delightful to purchase than bedding for little kids? Between the many crib sheets, bed sheets, and — recently — a new set of bunk beds, I have derived so much joy from these purchases over the years.
In fact, I was so compelled to wring every ounce of happiness from this stage of life where the boys have such sweet interests (and such little insistence on making these selections themselves), that I ended up with 4 different prints for the new bunks: dinosaurs, vehicles, construction, and animals.
I also choose to believe that even as they age and grow, and their interests mature, and their long limbs sprawl across these prints, and they manage to sleep past 6am in these very beds… they will surely still appreciate these sheets as much as I do. If I’m wrong, don’t tell me.
Our bedtime routine for the older 2 boys consists of a few books, a few songs, and sometimes a story. I started the storytelling portion a couple of years ago as inspired by my uncle, who told epic tales about my siblings, me, and my cousins — and I do mean “epic” as I only found out later that he lifted a lot of his material from classics like the Odyssey or Iliad. The trick to storytelling is that they have to close their eyes to imagine the story, peppered with all the references that allude to their interests du jour. Before you know it, they’re sleeping soundly.
But as the boys have gotten older and a bit bossier with their requests for story content (“make the bad guy a giant!” “say that we’re traveling up a volcano this time!” “pretend that C has super strength and can defeat the monster in one punch!”), Dave has started to troll them a little bit during his nights putting them to bed.
Take, for instance, J’s fascination with dragons for the past few months. He requested stories about the brothers as dragons, and we obliged. But then he started requesting that his dragon self had multiple powers: fire and water. Or fire and water and ice. And eventually, without shame, he asked that Dave tell the story with J featured as an Everything Dragon. As in, everything power. As in, totally OP* and does not make for much of a contested battle scene at the story’s climax.
So Dave obliged and started telling stories about J as an Everything Dragon. But in the stories, the attack scenes were riddled with mentions of poppy seeds flying, or sesame seeds scattering around, or J getting soggy and crumbly from the rain. The big reveal finally happened: J was actually an Everything *Bagel* Dragon.
This happened subtly at first, but then in enough stories that eventually I could hear J explicitly request during story time: “Dad, can you tell me a story where I’m an everything dragon? But not the bagel kind.”
In the 90 – 120 minute saga that is bedtime in our house, I have to say, me loitering in the hall to eavesdrop on the hilarity of Dave trolling the boys with these types of things is probably not the material that would get us featured on Parents magazine, but it is definitely how I just spent my Friday night.
*overpowered/gamer-speak
Recently I’ve been thinking about the many proverbial plates that I’ve knowingly let crash to the ground as I simply can’t keep them spinning anymore. To be sure, Dave & I are running on a time deficit everyday; there is far more that we want to do – or even should do – than time allows in this life stage, so many tasks don’t make the cut.
That said, and for a plane that’s being built as we fly it, we do seem to have a good gliding pattern.
With that in mind, I’ve come to appreciate the kind of shorthand, or even unspoken arrangements in place, that makes it a lot easier to predict, manage, and optimize as a duo. Key word: unspoken, as in, we have never explicitly addressed these things.
A few examples:
- Things we own separately:
Dave is the only one who uses our carpet steam cleaner on messes, who holds the baby during meals so I can eat while my food is hot, who makes runs to the post office regardless of whose return it is.
I am the only one who changes the lint trap, makes our bed, and initiates our garage spring and fall clean-ups. - Things we tag team:
I retrieve a new roll of toilet paper so we never run out; Dave actually mounts the new roll on the holder vs leaving it forever propped on top as I would.
Dave goes room-by-room to rouse the boys for breakfast in the morning if they’ve overslept; I then go room-by-room to open shades and turn off fans so the house doesn’t still feel sleepy.
I purchase & light enormous volumes of scented candles; Dave pretends to appreciate that I found new fragrances for the season… every season.
I periodically purge the toy collection; Dave runs it up to a donation center.
I organize, store, and swap out all the boys’ clothes by size and season; Dave doesn’t complain when I’m delinquent and our almost-7-year-old’s jeans look like he’s wearing floods because he’s clearly in a growth spurt and still wearing jeans that fit when he was 5 and did I mention I’m letting more plates crash lately? - Things we do simultaneously:
Never allow dry-clean or hand-wash-only clothing of any kind into our home.
What are your unspoken arrangements?
this is saturday
post cousin slumber party:
toddler hangover.
Last night, I attended an industry event honoring one of my clients. It was energizing in a way I never thought I’d describe a night spent away from my family, with competitive platform reps, banquet chicken, and cash bars. But the live speeches! Standing ovations! Small talk and lingering goodbyes! I was in my professional happy place.
And then the icing on the cake: the honoree gave career advice that was so thought-provoking that I paused to physically take note.
She told the story of her winding career following an impromptu move to the bay area, applying to a job that she knew nothing about other than it “sounded like a good fit for a creative,” being rejected and then bumped by HR to a different role that sounded “pretty cool, too” to her 22 year old self, and then an illustrious career with long stints in the employment of a handful of globally-recognized brand names. She never chased a specific role or level or scope, but nevertheless accrued an amazing reputation (see: ballroom filled with adoring fans) for her work, her working style, and her impact in the community. She explained some of this by following her passions while remaining authentic to herself, but also by tapping directly into the people around her with the following questions:
- What do you come to me for?
- When have you seen me happiest?
- What am I better at than my peers?
As someone who is a firm believer in the Strengths Finder philosophy, I found this suggestion useful, actionable, and very likely to yield illuminating results. Rather than feel that you need to all of the introspection alone, you can lean on the perspectives of people who can vouch more objectively for how you actually show up in terms of performance and strengths.
So there you have it. A new perspective on how to scope my next career moves, and the realization that I grossly underestimated the cost of a cash bar in a big city. Not bad for life lessons on a Thursday night.
