The Fourth Goodnightby Kristyn Crow | More from this Blogger 02 Feb 2007 09:50 AM Sunni, my thirteen-year-old stepdaughter with ADHD, has difficulty getting to sleep at night. Every evening the two of us go through a little ritual that I now call "the fourth goodnight." Originally it caused me some irritation. After a while, I began to quietly tolerate it. These days, it brings a smile to my face.
"Good night honey," I say. I'll hear her footsteps going down the stairs to her bedroom. Within a few minutes, I hear them coming up again. She bounds through the hallway toward me. "Mom, I just thought of something. Do you think Brandi and I could go to the mall on Friday night? I think her mom will go with us, too. If I do my homework and get my jobs done, would that be okay?" Then she chatters about how much she loves the mall, shopping, her friends, etc. Soon she's on a different topic altogether. "Sunni, you need to go to bed. We'll talk about all this tomorrow, I promise." For the second time, she puts her arms around me. "Goodnight Mom, I love you," she says. "I love you, too," I say, squeezing her tight. Her footsteps softly trail down the stairs. In about five minutes, I hear them coming up again. "Mom, I need lunch money tomorrow. I forgot to tell you that I'm out. Oh, and what would you think about me bringing my own lunch to school? Sometimes I don't like what they serve in the cafeteria. But Brandi gets a school lunch, too, so I guess I'd rather not. Oh, Mom, I'm sooooo looking forward to going to the mall! It's going to be so fun." "Sunni, sweetheart, you need to get to bed. You've got school in the morning. We'll take care of your lunch money, don't worry. Remind me tomorrow if I forget." Once again, Sunni will come and put her arms around me. "Okay. Goodnight, Mom. I really mean it this time; I'm going to bed." "Um-hmmmm." I say, giving her a kiss. (Footsteps on the stairs going down. Five minutes. Then footsteps on the stairs coming up.) Sunni smiles at me sheepishly. "Hi, Mom." "Hi Sunni." "Mom, just one more thing. These shoes are getting a little tight. I put them out to wear tomorrow, but I wanted you to know they're hurting my feet a little. I think I need new ones. Maybe I could shop for new shoes at the mall with Brandi. Or maybe we could go shopping together this weekend? I just don't like it when my feet hurt at school. Oh, and by the way, I drew a new dress design I want you to see. I'll show it to you... tomorrow I guess." I smile at her. It's a smile that says, "It's time for bed. And I still love you." She smiles back. For the fourth time, her arms are around me and she's hugging me. "Goodnight Mom." "Did you realize this was the fourth goodnight?" "Yeah," she giggles. I hear the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. Then, (sigh) silence. Kristyn Crow is the author of this blog. Visit her website by clicking here. Some links on this blog may have been generated by outside sources are not necessarily endorsed by Kristyn Crow. Related Articles: Will My Child Outgrow ADHD? Looking Ahead to the Teenage Years ADHD, Middle School, and Those Two Dirty Words My Thoughts on Mothering Special Kids
Learn more about Kristyn Crow  Kristyn Crow is the mother of seven children, and the author of three children's books. Visit her website at www.kristyncrow.com. Relevantspecial needs tags User Comments  Michele Cheplic |
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As it becomes later in the evening, I'll watch her face begin to grow tired. It's a face I know so well. Her eyes get glassy and she suddenly looks a few years older. "I'm tired," she'll say, pushing her long strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder. The children and I will have our nightly family prayer and talk about anything that comes to mind: what happened today, what we'll do tomorrow, what we think about current events, dreams we've had, or theories about the universe. Sunni happily contributes. But the tired eyes are there. As everyone turns in for the evening, she'll come over beside me and put her arms around me. "Goodnight, Mom," she says. "I'm going to bed."
