Structure is important. Trying to get them to sleep when they’re tired is important too. But I don’t want to be dogged about it. I don’t want to be inflexible. Most of all, I don’t want to act out of fear.
So I let the day be what it was. The 1st day of September, but still late summer. If he was older and going to school, it might be the last day of his summer holidays. As it was, we were both free. We didn’t have anywhere we had to be. No obligations. Paul wasn’t even going to be home till way after Jake’s bedtime.
It was a beautiful day. The kind of day I’ve always loved. That late summer light. The warmth of the sun without the scorch of it. The way there seems to be a feeling of things settling down, like sitting down to read a good book in the garden. The frenetic-indolent extremes of summer had passed.
On the walk home, I kept telling myself that it was okay if he didn’t fall asleep. Then he yawned. Near home, he said, “Tired. Go seep now.” I just said, “I know darling, Mummy’s tired too.”
|Walthamstow Marshes, taken by Jake|