My children share a bizarre tendency to refuse to fall asleep at bedtime. They get ready for bed, they get sleepy, they get in bed. They do not fall asleep. Minutes go by. Hours. Maybe days. They do not fall asleep. They rub their eyes, toss and turn. They do not fall asleep. I do not know why.

Audrey has joined in the stay-awake-when-sleepy game over the last week or so. This is peculiar, as she’s always been a put-me-down-at-the-regular-time-and-I-fall-right-to-sleep kind of girl. But no. This week, we do our bedtime routine at the regular time, and then she spends the next hour halfheartedly fussing (but wholeheartedly NOT SLEEPING). Today it occurred to me that she’s six months old. I’m pretty darned sure that’s one of the seismic shift ages for sleep; don’t they sort of completely rearrange their sleep patterns at six months? I think maybe that’s normal. The other kids have no excuse.

I miss winter. In the winter it’s dark by dinner time, and I swear my kids are all asleep by 6:30. After a while I start wishing they would stay awake later so we could go out and do fun things in the evening. Yesterday we went to Barnes & Noble around five o’clock, though, and let me tell you, it is NOT FUN to do fun things in the evening. The kids are worn out by the time evening rolls around.

I must remember this in the winter. I must not envy my friends who can take their kids out to coffee houses after dark. Or at least I must not try to emulate them. I must store up extra sleep instead. I’m pretty sure that’s what my kids do—they hibernate. And hibernation season, it is a-coming. (And that is what I shall tell myself tonight at bedtime.)