The kid's gonna be alright

After much thought, debate and worry, we have made the decision to have Ben skip second grade and go to third next year. We could not have asked for better support from Ben's school. The principal and team of teachers who helped us gave us excellent insight and advice throughout.

The decision-making process was tough for me. My honest inclination had been to have Ben proceed to second grade. It certainly would have been the safe choice, and the safe choice usually is the one I go with. I grappled with lots of what-ifs. What if: leaving his first-grade friends behind makes him really sad, he finds third grade too challenging, it all turns out terribly and Ben ends up hating us and we ruin his whole life? Yeah, I can be a little melodramatic. Of course, there were just as many what-ifs about having him stay on his current path. Obviously I didn't have a crystal ball to allow me to look into the future and get answers to all my what-ifs. However, when I looked at the situation with a clear head, I knew that odds were that Ben would do fine either way. Finally, I (and Mark, of course) decided: why not give him the chance? What if it turns out great?

At our final meeting with school staff, the principal imparted a last bit of wisdom: whatever you decide, don't play the what-if game, just get behind your decision and be confident in it. Clearly Mr. Dahm doesn't know me very well if he thinks I can avoid that game. Nevertheless, it's good advice, and I'm trying to follow it.

When we broke the news to Ben, he responded with a positive sounding, "OK." I suppose that's the best I could hope for. We are, after all, asking him to make a pretty big change. Now that we have made the decision, Ben has been doing some transitioning to get used to his new classmates. That included going to watch the all-city track meet with the second-graders, a privilege the first-graders don't get. I had the opportunity to go along. I sat a couple rows behind and watched my boy. He sat next to a girl from his math class. They bent their heads close and talked and giggled. When the class lined up to walk back to school, Ben fit right in. Sometimes I watch him and he seems so grown up it takes my breath away. I knew it watching Ben then. The kid's gonna be alright.

Never thought I'd be the early bird

For as long as I can remember, I have loved sleep. I lived for lingering in bed a few extra hours on the weekend, not that I got to do that too often after having kids. That all changed when I began to have occasional bouts with insomnia two months ago. One random night, I lay in bed not able to sleep, more and more worried about the next day as the hours ticked past. Not a big deal, right? Surely you can survive a sleepless night or two? Leave it to me and my anxious mind to turn it into a big deal. Turns out self-fulfilling prophecy is real. I worried and worried about sleeplessness becoming a pattern, and lo and behold it did. There's nothing like lying in bed fretting about falling asleep to stop you from doing just that.

My little problem became a big deal (at least in my neurotic mind) for a few weeks. At least one or two nights a week, I would wake up wide awake after maybe an hour of sleep. I'd lie there tossing and turning, shooting daggers at Mark for being able to sleep so easily when I was struggling so much. I had read that you aren't supposed to lie awake frustrated in bed, so I would get up and stalk through the house like a prowler, looking for some activity that would tire me out or bore me to sleep. Inevitably, the entire time I was up, I would feel agitated about not sleeping, again, not a sleep-promoting feeling. It was beginning to take a toll. Some nights I might only net about four hours of sleep, and I would be drowsy and crabby by 10 a.m. the next day.

I did what most people do when faced with a problem: searched the internet for a solution. I learned a lot. Insomnia affects women more than men (poor women, we get everything). Keeping a sleep schedule is important - going to sleep and waking up at roughly the same time every day. And I learned that I definitely didn't want to take sleeping pills or herbal remedies, as they don't work long-term. I needed a sustainable solution.

Finally I came across an article in Good Housekeeping suggesting a website called CBT (cognitive behavior therapy) for Insomnia. A renowned sleep expert created the program, available for purchase for the low, low price of $29.95. I was in. For my money, I got a program to follow, and each week I was to submit a sleep diary. I would then receive interactive sleep tips and sleep schedule recommendations from the doctor. I'm happy to say that the "positive self talk" and "sleep-promoting ideas" that I was supposed to hold in my head worked for me. I was beginning to have better nights.

Then I received my first sleep schedule from the doctor, and I balked. He wanted me to go to bed no earlier than 10:30 p.m. and wake up at 6 a.m. I didn't want to stay up until 10:30. I'm usually dead on my feet by 9 p.m. And waking up at 6 a.m.? On a Saturday? I got over it and decided I would try to follow it. I did my best but deviated some. As I submitted more diaries, the recommendations changed, and I found schedules that worked better for me. That brings me to now, when I'm aiming to go to sleep no earlier than 9:30 p.m. and up by 5:30 a.m., an hour that not so long ago I would have found depressingly early.

The amazing thing is that I've grown to actually like the early rising. It gives me a little kid-free time, and some mornings I even haul it over to the Y first thing to swim laps. So I'm no longer getting the eight or nine hours of sleep I used to crave. Most days it's more like seven and a half, but I'll take it. Being a parent is all about adapting, so I was well-prepared to do it yet again.