Sumping Woke Julia Up

For whatever reason - bright late-evening light, her sister's impending arrival, toddlerish recalcitrance, whimsical needs to have this or that stuffed-animal "friend" in bed, thirst for "icy water" - Julia has been struggling lately with her evening bedtimes. I didn't help matters the other day when I let the access door to our garage slam shut, just below her room. The bang woke up, and I had to go up there to tell her that, no, it wasn't thunder; it was Daddy and I am sorry and now it's time to go back to sleep.

Since then, each night's bedtime routine included some discussion of the possible sounds that she might hear but that she can nonetheless go back to sleep after hearing: trucks on the street, "dunder and lighting" outside, the toilet flushing, dogs barking, etc. She internalized this pretty well and went to sleep fairly easily for a few nights. But, in that who-knows-how way that's now perfectly commonplace with Julia (and I suppose with all kids), her "seepytime" concern with noises that might wake her up has shifted to a "wakeup time" recitation of things that woke her up. Since she's awake, it stands to reason that something woke her up, right?

The other morning, after lolling in her bed for a few minutes, she suddenly sat up and insistently told me, "Sumping woke Julia up!" I asked, "What was it?" She narrowed her eyes in a very serious way and said, "The Erf made a noise and woke Julia up. And the moon! The moon made a noise, and woke Julia up." I knew the Earth was up to no good, but I didn't think I couldn't trust the moon. Damn those celestial bodies.

email: christopher at tassava dot com