Long, long ago, back when I tucked my children in bed each night, I'd lie down with them. This was after baths and reading books. The light was turned off and I'd tell them a story. At times, I simply recounted an event from earlier in the day, or embellished a tale from when they were younger. When I was feeling creative, I'd make up an adventure or fantasy, most often about a little boy named Christopher & his big sister Christina.
One story, which varied each time it was told, involved the children going into a closet to play and shutting the door. When the door was opened, they would find themselves transported elsewhere for an exciting excursion. I would make the story up as we laid there, in hopes their little eyes would close before I finished. My goal was to get them to fall asleep. Sometimes it had the opposite effect, and the anticipation would build to the point that they were too excited to sleep. If I was in a hurry to get them to bed, or simply could not think where to take the story, I'd leave them with a cliff hanger and the hope they'd go to bed early the next night. I'd leave the room with a smile, knowing their imaginations were stirred. After a few moments standing outside their door, I'd hear whispers of their inspired imagery.
Occasionally (or should I say often,) when I was very tired, too tired to imagine, too sleepy to recall an anecdote, too exhausted to be creative, I'd sing a silly song or recite a fairy tale. "Sing a song of sixpence" and "Goldilocks & The Three Bears" were my usual go-to's. For fun, I'd change up the words to see how awake they were or just to hear them giggle and exclaim, "no, no, no, it's 'a pocketful full of rye' not pie."
Last Saturday, Ethan spent the night. Hilary & Elisabeth tried to get him to go to bed. They laid down with him, and let him call his mom on the phone to say, "BYE." The usual things he does at home. (Only at home, he calls his grandpa & grandma to say good-night.) But Ethan would not stay in bed. When he is in his own bed, after saying good-night to his grandpa and me, his mom & I will take time to catch up. Often, as he listens to us chatter, he falls asleep easily. I hoped by telling him a bedtime story in the dark it might have the same effect. I chose the story of "The Three Bears", not knowing how meaningful it would be, but hoping for peaceful dreams.
O began, "Once upon a time..." and all of the sudden, I could not remember how the story goes. Had it been that long since I'd told this tale? Oh my! Who can forget a simple fairy tale that she has repeated a thousand times or more?
I made the best attempt I could. By the second retelling, I think I remembered most of it. Ethan giggled as I did my best impersonation of Papa Bear in his great, gruff voice and Baby Bear's high squeaky voice. And guess what? He finally fell asleep.
I smiled as I remembered how often I used this tale to help Christopher remember to speak in a voice more like Mama Bear when he'd get excited, rather than his Baby Bear squeal. I always wondered if he made the connection that the mama bear voice was a natural voice (for me, anyway) instead of an exaggerated gruff or shrieking one. Quite possibly he was scarred for life believing he had to sound like a Mama Bear instead of the Baby Bear. At least he didn't suffer from gender confusion. Oh wait....never mind.
(Sorry Christopher.)
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