Big Night

It's been a fun big week of firsts for R: first time mailing a letter all on her own (she's just tall enough), first time zipping up her own sleep sack (yes, she still sleeps in one. It's cozy! But it's got a complicated upside down zipper that starts right under the chin), and best of all...FIRST SLEEPOVER at a friend's house! With her friend M, pictured below but conveniently obscured by a giant, rainbow-sprinkly soft serve for internet privacy purposes.

 

This wasn't R's first night away from us: we are lucky and grateful to have Max and Jerry nearby, and they have had her stay with them overnight a few times; it's always exciting for R and relaxing for us. But this occasion felt a bit different since it involves being comfortable enough with a friend and friend's parents to last all night long. As I recall from my sleepover days, 10pm at someone else's house is like a kid version of a trip to a foreign country.

So many, many times over the past few years (being on the parenting end of the parent/child relationship), I realize a whole fresh perspective on some staple of childhood. I understand dessert as a useful tool. I understand how passionately no parent really wants their kid to get to the dreaded number (as in "I'm going to count to 3 and you need to get start getting your shoes on), since whatever is on the other side of that number - no play date, no TV show, etc - is as big a drag for the parent as it is for the kid. Bigger probably. And now I understand the miracle of the sleepover. A quiet (or quieter, at least) night, knowing that R is having a fabulous time devouring pizza and pancake breakfasts and giggling into the wee hours with unlimited potty talk. I think the phrase win-win must have been created to describe sleepovers.