When I was a baby, my parents went out of their way to be obsessively quiet when I was sleeping — I am told they put pillows on the floor in order to cut down on any creaking from the old house’s floors — and as a result I am (even as an adult) a very light sleeper and am awoken by the slightest sound and have great trouble getting to sleep as well. While they thought they were being kind to their fragile little first baby, in reality they did me a great disservice. With Nefarious, we were much louder, and she has been raised in environments with a wide variety of sounds — animals, traffic, TV, visiting friends, and everything else — so she is a much better sleeper than I. I hope she retains this ability, because I’m very jealous. However, part of the reason, and the funnest reason, that Nefarious slept through the fire alarm last night was that she has this wonderful fort that she’s been sleeping in. It’s “insulated” with couch pillow walls, so that dulls a lot of the sound. You may also notice a pair of Fiero seats forming one wall as well — part of the joy of fort building, as I’m sure everyone remembers from their own childhood, is dragging everything you can find to your creation and using it to construct the structure.
Her and a friend are playing in it right now (when we got home from school, we rebuilt it and made it much bigger so it would be a better playspace), and then because it’s Friday night we’ll have the treat of pizza and a movie. I have a great series of HD nature documentaries that I got today, so they can choose their favorite from a half dozen animals while we gorge ourselves with the least healthy meal of the week. They wanted to eat pizza in the fort, but the messiness of the request of what amounts to pizza in bed was turned down, so they will need to suffer through television.
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If you look carefully you may also notice a bulldog — the guard dog of course — sticking its head out the side.
Walls include two car seats, a piano stand, a coffee table on its side, two or three chairs, a pile of carpentry clamps, two big blankets for the roof and a smaller one as a door/wall, and a bunch of couch pillows… SO FAR!
Myself, my significant other and his son were staying in a hotel suite in Louisville, KY recently, and the five-year-old had the fairly brilliant idea of turning the main room into a fort.
We figured no harm done, so we helped him out and had a grand ol’ time and covered the entire room. Blankets, pillows, couch cushions, chairs, comforters, tables — it was all in there.
We amusingly left it up during the night and into the morning to see what the staff would do – they laughed when they saw it. (We left a large tip for our messiness/creativity.)
or you could just be a light sleeper. I have two daughters. Both have different sleep patterns. One, like you was a light sleeper. She never takes/took naps and is awake before my wife & I most saturdays. The other, sleeps long and hard.Kind of like a log. If your parents were like my wife & I, you never got much of a break. So you try your best to pussyfoot around. Hoping to get a few minutes alone. Who knows. Maybe some people get lucky and get parenting right on the first try…..
Christopher say’s he wants to play in it. It’s NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.
Forts are/were the best.
big cardboxes as well as the pillow/sheet/chair/blanket forts are always found here at my house. endless fun!
One bad thing about being able to sleep through noise is that when you need to be awakened by an alarm, it usually doesn’t work. I’m always sleeping through alarms.
Ari used to keep mountains of cardboard boxes in her room at our old apartment for fort purposes. Sort of. I think they were kitty crates with pillows and windows, but there was always a giant stack of them…
I used to sleep through anything as a child, too. I think it was probably because we moved house so many times when I was little, that I just got used to the succession of different sounds and noises outside and round about.
I remember when I first got married, we had a ground-floor flat with a busy main road outside. I slept like a log, but my wife had terrible trouble because she’d only ever lived out in the country, and the noise of the town traffic kept her awake all the time.
For me, it’s the other way around. I grew up in an industrie belt, so when it is silent, I wake up and wonder if the world has just stopped existing. The beautiful noises of steel cooking or train noise makes me feel all save at home.
Shannon – you wrote
“When I was a baby, my parents went out of their way to be obsessively quiet when I was sleeping — I am told they put pillows on the floor in order to cut down on any creaking from the old house’s floors”
Well yes, shannon, it was very quiet – but just you and your mother – no tv – no radio – and the place was isolated. The time you are talking about is when we lived on Ron Wooley’s Estate in the Sannich Penisula, Vancouver Island.
It wasn’t just sleeping. Kathleen couldn’t run the vacuum or anything else during the day – we took good care of Ron’s place except for a cukkoo clock we lost
I loved that clock and sometimes I’d forget and wind it as i found it funny and it was okay for you when i was there
kv said you’d cry very loud when it went off – actually that’s not quite right – you were tolerant of sound including the clock when i was home.
kv and i together made lots of noise, we entertained and that didn’t bother you (maybe bbecause i was there) you were always with us – i think you associated noise being safe when i was around but not when you were alone with kathleen.
you were never alone you were never put away from noise when i was home just the opposite you’d be in the kitchen and i’d be helping or at least drinking wine and boasting to kv about my exploits of the day and caring you like a sausage – well one arm – as my other arm was free
when i was home you were always there – at first in a little basket and in our bedroom in a crib
your crib was in our bedroom as you were breast fed a couple times a nite – you never woke me but your mother fed you on your demand – yes it was quiet – you didn’t katterwall to wake kv for mother’s milk
you never woke me
But for the floors the house was quiet – there wasn’t another house for maybe a quarter of a mile, trees etc.
Maggie Brucker et al used to come out everyday to hold you outside by the goldfish pond so kv could vacuum and make supper
i hope this helps – i thought it was funny at the time – but it was your mother’s wish – she loved you tender –
something you know i have never done to anyone – which is not say i do not love you.
i know you know all this but for the record it is careless to lump us as parents -ou kv and i love you then and now as differently as we are different.
you got 2x just like your sister got three fathers, devon, you and me.
We live right next to the sports stadium here in town, and every Guy Fawkes (the first Saturday afterwards if the 5th is a weeknight) they have a big fireworks display. It was crazy loud and my 14 month old son slept right through it. Surprised my partner and I to no end! But we made the decision to be louder than quiet when he sleeps, so he’s not a bad lil sleeper :)
When I was a baby, my parents used to take me on car rides to get me to go to sleep. To this day, whenever I am a passenger in a car for longer than 15 minutes, I fall asleep. I am the worst road trip buddy ever.
Sleeping patterns aside…
I am in love with Ari’s bed. I’m 26 years old but would very much like that bed!
Mimi, that bed was my parent’s bed for many, many years. It’s my belief that I was conceived on it (although on a different mattress). Bought at an auction for $10!
Has it always been such a beautiful shade of pink? ;)
In my parents’ attic, they have their first headboard and footboard. I’ve wanted it for ages but I can’t get it from Tulsa to OKC with my itty bitty Toyota. Someday I’ll find someone with a giant vehicle to help!
I’m surprised nobody has commented on the guns yet. Are they genuine?
hey Shannon!
yeah, those guns….no one noticed? heh, must be good, heavy items to keep the blankets to stay put.
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