The Joy Of The Bedtime Spill

The big light is off, and the ceiling fan is lilting around on low. The warm-hued nightlight on the dresser casts a calming glow around the room. You've brushed teeth, read a book, maybe done your special handshake, or whatever it is that constitutes the nighttime routine in your house. And in those precious, hushed moments right before you kiss your child on the forehead and pull the blanket up to their chin, it happens: the bedtime spill.

My son is only 3, but already, I look forward to his little confessionals each night. As we lay face-to-face on his pillow, tucked between Lightning McQueen sheets for a quick cuddle, he pours out the big questions, concerns, and joys of his day — the ones too difficult to explain amid the chaos of after-school evenings.

For weeks now, he's been using this time to nail down the logistics of going to see Paw Patrol Live; he likes knowing what to expect. These questions loom large for him: Can our dog, Zelda, come with us so she can talk to the Paw Patrol pups? Should we bring them treats? Will they come home with us after the show to play fetch? What if they poop in our yard?

Other days, his questions carry an incredible emotional weight. He's moving to a real school this year. Will his daycare teachers come have lunch with him there? It's the toddler equivalent of asking if he'll ever see them again or if he should grieve them now. Or the day I intentionally left my phone in another room so I could really focus on him, and as we snuggled up with the lights out, he said, "Mama, I hab so much fun wiff you today."

Some nights, he just wants me to sing "Amarillo By Morning," the only slow song I could think of in my early postpartum haze, searching the sleep-deprived recesses of my brain for a lullaby. It comforts us both now, it seems.

It's the kind of conversation I've never had with anyone else — the kind I most love having with him in the glow of his nightlight — and one that helps me deeply understand how his worldview is taking shape.

Ever since he's been able to string together simple sentences, this cozy little window of time before bed is when we've talked about disputes with his friends over whose turn it was in the play kitchen at daycare, times I've raised my voice and how it scared him, or who is part of our family and what that means. To him, it means we love and protect each other. It's the kind of conversation I've never had with anyone else — the kind I most love having with him in the glow of his nightlight — and one that helps me deeply understand how his worldview is taking shape.

I am constantly trying to predict how the bedtime spill will evolve with age, when he no longer wants me to scratch his back or share a pillow while he gushes. I want it to last, to get us through school and life issues that haven't become real for us yet: bullies, bad grades, crushes, weird friend dynamics, our own arguments over who-knows-what-yet.

And if Reddit and internet parenting forums are any clue, my son and I are not alone in our bedtime brain dump ritual.

"My toddler has been going through emotions before bedtime. She says things like 'happy' then smiles, 'sad' and frowns, 'mad' and scowls." "Anyone else's LO a nighttime chatterbox?" "Ours likes to go through the day and chats away for half an hour." "My toddler repeats whatever new words or phrases are important to her as she falls asleep and when she stirs. Recently, I heard a raspy little voice over the monitor say, 'Sharp knife… hurt you.'"

Ashley Dempsey, a Florida mom of three, says she asks her 11-year-old daughter about the peak and pit of her day each night as she gets ready for bed. She'll dish about "the usual sixth-grade struggles," like a tough math test or a boatload of homework, and celebrate praise from a teacher or going bowling with her family that day.

Mom of two Shauna Winterbottom has teens ages 14 and 19, with the latter away at college. They've had a bedtime routine their whole lives — which naturally lent itself to the bedtime spill — and it's something they initiate on their own now, even away from home.

"I stay up late, so they pop out of their rooms at the end of the night and that's when they talk to me, especially my son when he was in high school. He would come out at 11:00 when everyone else was asleep, and that's when he would tell me about his day. He's in college now, and even still, I tend to get middle-of-the-night texts from him," she says. "I think once you've established that kind of routine, they do tend to carry it on even without you being the one who starts it."

By day, Winterbottom is a school counselor at a pre-K through 8th grade school. In her role there, she says she can tell which students feel comfortable talking openly with their parents or caregivers at home and which ones don't.

"They are much more likely to understand their feelings and the process of working through a problem, as opposed to kids who don't have that person at home to talk to, who keep it all inside until it comes out in other ways, like negative or risk-taking behaviors. I have kids sometimes who will come and just tell me things that seem really, really trivial, and I know that no other grownup is listening to them talk about those things," she says.

So, why do our kids unload all their worldly concerns right before we step out of their rooms for the night? "That's the time that their brain and their body calm down, it's quiet, and they've had all day to process whatever it is. And hopefully, in the best-case scenario, that's when they feel safe and comfortable, so that's when it comes out. And that's why it's those situations where the children are allowed to talk and to be honest," says Winterbottom.

As the new school year begins, now is the time to make space for the bedtime spill and to revel in whatever it is our children lay at our feet.

And while it can be frustrating to launch into a conversation about a weighty question right before your parenting shift ends, or even worse, the seemingly pointless hypothetical of whether or not the Paw Patrol will be pooping excessively in your yard in the coming weeks, it matters that we dive in.

"If you can take that little bit of time — 10, 15 minutes of your undivided attention where you are totally open to letting them say anything or say nothing — then it helps them have a restful night. It helps them feel secure and loved. And that just keeps going," says Winterbottom. "Anytime a child feels they have a safe person at home, that they can speak to about the tiniest thing in the world or the biggest thing, that's so important. They have a lot going on in their little heads, and some things seem really trivial to adults, but they're not to them. It's important because it won't always be a small, trivial thing. Those trivial things grow into big things."

As the new school year begins, now is the time to make space for the bedtime spill and to revel in whatever it is our children lay at our feet. I, for one, will field questions about which dinosaurs are fastest and what it actually means to be kind with equal glee. Either way, it's fostering a connection with my son that everyone says gets so much more elusive with age, and it’s one I'll do just about anything to hang on to.