Bedtime Routine

This week, I was reading an online article about backstage riders, or contractual demands musicians make regarding what must be provided in their dressing rooms before they perform. While some claim these specific requests ensure that more important requirements, such as safety issues, are met, most of them seem to cater to the whims of pampered stars who view their wants as needs. Perhaps the most famous example is the rock band Van Halen’s rider demanding a bowl of M&Ms with all the brown candies removed. Singer and American Idol judge Jennifer Lopez insists that her dressing room be decorated completely in white with white furniture, white curtains, and white flowers. Former Beatle Paul McCartney’s contract includes the rather unusual requirements of 24 bars of Ivory soap and 19 (not 20) six-foot-tall leafy plants. Displaying diva behavior, Madonna insists that a new toilet seat be installed in her dressing room bathroom; Barbra Streisand takes this a step further by demanding that rose petals be placed in her dressing room toilet. Like these stars, Alex has his own list of requirements that must be met; however, his “needs” focus on bedtime instead of showtime. If he knew about backstage riders, he would be likely to want his own contract in writing to make sure his list of demands were met so as not to disturb his need for a nightly routine.

When he was little, Alex’s contract would have included the following bedtime requirements:

• Favorite books and stuffed animals (specifically Barney the purple dinosaur and two teddy bears Mommy made, a.k.a. “friends”) placed strategically in the bed
• Recitation of specified bedtime story (Goodnight Moon, later to be replaced by Veggie Tales’ book Time for Tom), complete with perfect page turning, appropriate voice modulation, and absolutely no changes of wording
• Five sippy cups of various colors lined up on the dresser, each containing a different beverage—milk (prior to the milk-free diet), water, orange Hi-C, orange juice, and apple juice

Fortunately, Alex has outgrown those needed items in order to go to sleep. His current contract would instead include the following requests:

• Digital scale for weighing self nightly, accurate to 1/5 of a pound
• Digital electronic blood pressure cuff for measuring “vitals” (blood pressure and pulse) on a weekly basis
• Prescription progesterone cream rubbed into forearms nightly to combat acne on face
• Burt’s Bees baby oil rubbed into outer ears to combat chronic dry skin
• “Tuck you in,” requiring two pillows (one under the head and one over the head) and specific blankets, depending upon the season, including NASCAR quilt, Chicago Cubs fleece blanket, blue sheet, white blanket, and “states blanket” (actually a quilt I made for him when he was five that has a map of the United States and the individual states surrounding it on one side)
• “Scootching”—a second or third attempt at “Tuck you in” when head is not appropriately placed on the pillow
• Sound effects for “scootching”—emulating the sounds made when game show contestants lose (My version goes “Wah wah wah waaahhhh”; to which Alex responds “Doh doh doh doooohhh.” This always makes both of us laugh.)
• Recitation of nightly prayers, specifically the “Now I lay me down to sleep” version ending with “God bless” of 34 specific people’s names (If any of these people who are important to Alex are not mentioned, he adds their names to the end and acts slightly annoyed that I forgot to include them. “Amen” must be said in unison.)
• Goodnight kiss on the cheek or forehead, followed by mutual declarations of affection—“Love you”
• “See the stars”—turning on one of his two star projectors, the one that accurately displays constellations in white on the ceiling (but requires being turned off once he’s asleep) or the one shaped like a turtle that displays whimsical green depictions of the moon and stars on the walls and ceiling (not scientifically accurate but has an automatic shut-off after an hour, which makes it more convenient)
• Recitation of nightly ditty—“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite!” (I must say the first part but allow Alex to finish the ditty with “the bedbugs bite.”)
• Close door to permit enough darkness for the star projections to be seen and to signal that it’s time to go to sleep.

While this complicated routine may seem a bit much, Alex and I have perfected the steps after daily repetitions so that we can run through it fairly quickly. If I forget any of the details, he is quick to remind me what still needs to be done, and he is usually patient about any occasional omissions I make. Certainly, like a rock star, he is pampered, probably because of his autism and his only child status. Since I understand his need for routines, I maintain them, and because I have the time to focus only upon him, I cater to his whims, knowing that he will sleep easily through the night once we have met all his requests. To be honest, this bedtime routine is sacred to me, as well, because during this precious time Alex is the most affectionate and content, which makes my tasks in helping him get ready for bed worthwhile. Eventually, he will be independent and not need me, but for now, I savor the sweet bedtime routine, even those times when it seems tedious, pleased to have a child who prays, expresses love, and knows contentment. To share that experience is truly a nightly blessing.

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for You alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.” Psalm 4:8