My children are, in a word, old. Well, they're old for children. They have opinions. They walk by themselves to the bookstore and haunt the manga section. They have plans that don't include me, at all.
Even so, we still have people who wander in during the evning, or in the middle of the night, prey to bad dreams and worries and being unable to sleep.
But we don't have the awesome sleep books of yore. When they're little, there's that whole class of soporifics, books that end with the main character snug in bed, and the moon shining, and, you know, zzzzzzzzz.
I loved those books. Not just because they're often great books (do I really need to haul Goodnight, Moon out here, people? I will!), but also because they WORK. And when I say they work, I don't just mean that they work on the small ones, they work on me.
All my life I have had trouble falling asleep. And it's not like the books were foolproof—for me or them. There were many times when I read in that sslllloooooowwww sleep-inducing voice, "And then he nestled under the soft covers, and…" while the kid was working to see if she could fit her foot behind her head. And no doubt part of my susceptibility had to do with the insane amount of sleep deprivation. But reading Big Red Barn, with a not quite toddling person lolling against your side, warm and loose and full of milk—it's generally a sleepy situation. And I don't get to do it anymore. And I'm still tired! But there are no books or situations like this for me anymore (though my husband does swear by a glass of chilled vermouth and The Golden Bowl—start with any paragraph you like—in the afternoon).
It's been more acute lately, this missing of those sleepy books. People are under stress, not sleeping as well as they might, and—well. Let's just say you might have found me in my living room the other day, reciting what I could of Big Red Barn from memory.
But I know there are lots. It's not just Margaret Wise Brown, right? Can you remind me? We can make a list in the comments, those books that just laid you (or your associated tiny person) flat out.