I Sleep Both Ways

Kevin woke up, but Justin did not.

It was one a.m. when I heard "a sound like someone trying not to make a sound." I found Kevin washing his hands in the bathroom and after confirming that he was fine, I walked him back to his room, gave him a hug, and tucked him in. Before leaving, I also checked on Andrew and Justin—they sleep in the same room, side by side like the three bears—and covered them again as well.

Ten minutes later I went back to check on Kevin and found him asleep. Andrew, however, had flipped off his covers and was sleeping the way I so often discover him, with his head toward the foot of the bed. I considered covering him in that position, then decided to flip him back with his head on his pillow. As I lifted his heavy, still form, I whispered, "Andrew, you're sleeping upside down again."

I never expected a reply, but he gave me a reassuring smile and said, "It's okay, Dad. I sleep both ways."

He's right, of course, he does kick off his covers and flop around in bed. He likes to sleep with his body pushed up against the wood frame and often with one limb draped over it. He tends to run warm and quickly kicks off his covers. He's the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up. We don't even set an alarm clock on school days; we let Andrew wake us up when it's time.

When the boys were infants, the NICU nurses taught us to wrap them up like little burritos while they slept. We learned to calm them by holding their arms pressed against their chests so they couldn't flail about and get over-stimulated.

Yet even as babies they slept differently, but it wasn't until they were out of cribs that I discovered Andrew's magic formula for putting himself to sleep: he thrashes. I instinctively tried covering him, but it seemed to frustrate him. So I watched him fall asleep several nights in a row while I cuddled beside him. And sure enough, he thrashed. He'd flop from position to position, then eventually end up face down with one leg kicking. I watched as he repeatedly kicked his foot, gradually slowing down, and eventually his foot paused in the air, then settled down one last time and he was asleep. It's not a technique that works well with covers tightly wrapped around you, but I could see it worked for Andrew. In fact, in later weeks if he claimed he couldn't fall asleep, I'd just tell him to lie on his belly and kick his foot. Sure enough, he'd be asleep in five minutes.

I know the boys' sleeping styles pretty well—I should after ten thousand bed checks—but I still marvel at the differences. Kevin sleeps on his back, often with his hands beside his head on the pillow, looking for all the world as if he's in Hollywood lying on a beach chair by the pool as the starlets parade by wondering if he's someone famous. He looks as if he's having great dreams about playing sports and scoring points. He prefers to sleep inside a sleeping bag on top of his covers. I still don't know whether that's because it keeps his thin frame warmer or whether he's just trying to make less work for himself every morning when making his bed.

Justin could give a class on sleeping. He's a cuddle bug and he wraps the blankets up tightly over his shoulder and sleeps on his side. He has a ritual of arranging his pillows and favorite stuffed animals by his head. His two greatest comfort items are his lambies. He puts one on top of his pillow, lays his head upon it, and then drapes the other on top of his face, and he is instantly out. I've watched him make himself into a lambie sandwich at night and teased him about it. "You never have to count sheep, Justin," I've observed. "You just have to count lambies: one, two, and then poof, you're asleep."

But Andrew will always be the squirming, flopping, wiggly boy I'll find in a heap at the bottom of the bed, occasionally sleeping beside his bed, sometimes collapsed amidst an absurd pile of stuffed animals, and other times with his feet in his pillow case. Maybe one day he will outgrow it. But for now, he continues to sleep both ways...and every other way imaginable under the moon.