The first thought I had when I read this New York Times article was...DUH!

Did we really need an expensive study to tell us that children with televisions in their bedroom will:

1. Watch more T.V.
2. Have more sleep-related problems
3. Be fatter
4. Score lower on standardized tests

The only thing I found surprising in this study is that parents actually allow their children to have televisions in their bedrooms.

One study cited in the Times article examined the television, computer, and video game habits of 400 Northern California children -- and fully 70% of those kids had televisions in their bedroom. The Journal of Pediatrics conducted another study cited in this article. This study reported that "preschool children with bedroom TVs were more likely to be overweight". Preschoolers?

Does the most educated generation of parents the world has ever known have absolutely no common sense? Do they not notice their kids' weight, test scores or sleep habits? Are parents so disengaged from their own children that they just don't care what or how much their children watch so long as they're not bothered?

I truly have no answers because I simply cannot relate. I would never consider putting a television in any of my kids rooms and I make it my business to know exactly what they are watching. Maybe we need more studies to figure out the parents.

During my custody trial, one of the things I was questioned and criticized about was a bedtime ritual I had with my son that I had written about on my blog. I tried to explain my beliefs about encouraging creativity, stimulating a child's imagination, and finding ways to make them feel safe, even if it includes an imaginary story. However, it seemed to fall on deaf ears because it sounded too much like "magic" or "witchcraft."

Like many children, my son was afraid of the dark, fearful of things in his room or going to sleep and something "getting him" while he slept. I asked for advice, read books and tried to find ways to make him feel secure, but nothing worked. Since I tend to live inside my head a lot and make up stories, I drew from that and created a story for him. I told him that every night before bed, your finger turns into a magic wand. Little light fairies light up the wand and give it power. If you take that magic wand and draw a circle around yourself, it creates a force field that protects you while you sleep. My son, ever the realist, asked me what happens if he wakes up during the night and needs to leave the force field quickly. "How will I get out, Mom?" he asked me.

I explained to him that the force field was to keep people out, not to prevent him from leaving. He was able to leave the force field any time he chose, but once he created the circle, no one would be able to get inside. He was a very curious child, and asked so many questions that I ended up writing a whole story about the force field, the circle, and all the fairies that fly around the circle all night, protecting him while he slept. I created a song to go with the circle, and we would sing it together every night while holding hands with our index fingers extended, drawing the circular force field:

We make this circle round and round
From the sky to the ground.
Little fairies bring your light
And protect us through the night.

We sang that song every night for years. After my custody trial, my son was not allowed to sing the song or talk about the circle at his dad's house. There seemed to be some worry that I was teaching my son evil things. My son was worried about how he would sleep and be protected from the nightmares. I reassured him that the force field can be activated just by thinking about it and if he sang the song to himself when he went to sleep, it would still work. It broke my heart that such a simple, harmless bedtime ritual could be turned into something bad. Didn't we all read fairy tales and learn about magic when we were kids? I have always believed that stimulating and encouraging a child's imagination is a good thing. I think if all fiction writers had their creativity squashed like this when they were children, the world would have a lot fewer books for us to enjoy and none of us would know about a little wizard named Harry Potter.

How do you help your child deal with nighttime fears? Do you feel that it's wrong to make up a story?

As I mentioned the other day, we're having some issues with sleep over at our house – and it's not the newborn. Possibly experiencing anxiety over his new sister or, more likely, trying out his big boy legs, Nate has been getting out of bed. A lot. So I've been revisiting the sleep books. He's been having nightmares and is scared to go to sleep. We realized, based on his recounting of his dreams, that Daddy playing "Monster Chase" with him before bedtime – yeah, probably not a good idea. What to do to undo the damage?

Then I got a Daily Candy email promoting this "I'm Not Afraid Monster Spray". It sprays sleep-promoting aromatherapy into the air to convince your child that his or her room is covered in a monster-proof coating. Pretty cool, but $14.95 U.S. is a bit steep for me. Perhaps I'll stick to water in a spray bottle instead.

The other issue some parents and experts have with monster sprays is that it appears to the child that adults also think monsters are real. And well, it's lying and eventually you'll be found out. (Which interestingly, was also the recent and heated topic of discussion regarding Santa!) Rachel had written about some monster-coping skills in the past that I may try out to avoid deception.

What about you? Are there monsters in your house? How do you deal with them?

Now that my inlaws live nearby, we're contemplating a sleepover with Grandma and Grandpa. Bean has asked several times to sleep over--he loves their new house, with it's nooks and crannies and music boxes. But the thing is, I'm not sure if he actually understands that when he goes there to sleep over we won't actually be there for him to come into bed with in the middle of the night as he is apt to do.

How do you go about preparing a preschooler (if he is a preschooler and not in fact still a toddler,) for a sleep over at Grandma and Grandpa's house. My mother in law suggested that my husband and I spend the night there as well the first time he sleeps over, but think that will just confuse him further. I'm not sure I can handle the thought of him waking up bewildered and sad in the middle of the night, crying out "Snuggle me, mama!" only to discover we're no where to be found.

Do your kids sleep over at their grandparent's house? When did they start? How did you prepare them?

It's mid afternoon, a rainy Sunday. The branches of green outside my window sit heavy and full with unrelenting water. There's dust on my floor and shrapnel on my kitchen counter and a little boy who has just succumbed to sleep after half an hour of protests: "Goin' nigh-nigh is hard werk, Mommy. Hard werk."

I look at my desk, look at my kitchen, think about the ten piles of laundry I could do while my son naps for the next two hours. I think about the possibility of splayed light on my bedroom window, cracking a shiny new book and sinking into my covers while listening to the rain patter outside.

Sitting down in front of my computer, I make the same decision I always do: work. If I work more right now, while he sleeps, we can go to the bookstore later and I can spend tonight cleaning the sticky off the counter.

I was recently over at my friend's home, visiting with her nine-week-old baby.
"Do you sleep when your baby sleeps?" I asked her, and she shook her head no."I have too much stuff to do around here,"she explained.

Fact is: I don't know anyone who slept when their infant slept. And I don't know any Mama of a toddler who sleeps while their big baby sleeps.

How about you? What do you do when your kid is napping? Hint: if you eat chocolates and watch Young and the Restless, I am coming to hunt you down. And begging for your secret to perfect balance.

Lately, Ellie has become fascinated with all things scary. Whereas bedtime used to involve me telling her a happy story of my own childhood, she now demands something more frightening. If I can work in a little girl and a monster, even better.

I quickly discovered that there is a fine line between spooky and terrifying. When that line in crossed, nobody is getting any sleep. In a desperate attempt to find something mildly creepy, I have begun drawing on television shows and commercials.

Her absolute favorite stories involve Sasquatch. More specifically, messin' with Sasquatch. Of course, I copied this idea from the television commercials for Jack Links Beef Jerky. She particularly likes the one where two hikers (they become two little girls in my version) stumble upon Sasquatch's cave and decide to play a practical joke on the mythical creature. They leave a flaming bag of poop at the entrance to the cave and hide behind a tree to watch the fun as Sasquatch furiously stomps on the bag. This story is great because it combines her desire to be frightened with her love of poop jokes.

As far as I know, none of Ellie's friends have begun asking for scary bedtime stories, but I am fairly certain this a normal stage of her development. Right? Does your child enjoy being frightened - just a little - at bedtime?

Over the past two years, bedtime for Bean has evolved quite a bit. There was the time, before he was a year old, when I'd have to have him physically on my body for him to go to sleep. Then there was the rocking phase. I hated the rocking phase, mostly because the rocking chair we own totally sucks. It's impossibly hard (not the coveted glider I wish I had, for sure!) and I would feel like I'd slipped into a weird alternate reality: there in the semi dark, rocking and singing lullaby after lullaby.

Around the time he moved to a big-boy bed (18 months-ish?) we skipped the rocking and started snuggling and reading stories, followed by lullabies, until he'd finally close his eyes. Then we'd tiptoe out, breathlessly, in slow motion, for fear of waking him. Bedtime at this phase was dramatic, and drawn out. It took forever to get him to go to sleep--a forever I began to resent.

Finally, I decided to draw the line in the sand: bedtime would be done after two books and a few hugs and kisses. Lights out. Sleep tight. Done. At first this was met with much protest. Then less, and eventually it more or less worked. But he still tries to negotiate: "Just one more kiss, just one more snuggle." And when that fails, "I missed you mama. I missed you when you were at work today. I love you. Come snuggle with me." Clever little monkey.

So that's pretty much where we're at. We start the bedtime routine at 7--with a bath, and a sippy cup of milk. And he'll go to bed for either one of us--after two stories and however many snuggles and smooches. Most nights he will actually go right to sleep (after said negotiations.) But some nights--more lately than in the past--he's been just lying there wide-eyed in the dark for almost an hour. If I leave my studio which is right down the hallway from his room, he'll call out, "Stay close by mama!" And he's started wanting the hallway light on.

I know on these nights he has too much going through his mind, and he somehow can't settle himself down. Recently I've started playing music for him, low, on my computer next door. But I'm not sure if this helps or not. I cant decide if I should just let him be--let him settle in whatever way he can figure out--or if I should give him some method for soothing--like music.

I want to know the nitty-gritty from all of you about your toddler's bedtime routines. What do you do? How does it work? When does your toddler go to sleep? Etc.

When I was a kid I was very attached to a yellow hand knit blanket that someone had given me as a baby. I slept with it every night as a toddler, and could only be convinced to part with it once I shifted my affections to a stuffed bear when I was three. I couldn't sleep without my nose buried into Papa Bear. For years.

My son on the other hand, has never been big on having stuff in bed with him--until tonight, when he insisted on having a little plastic alligator hair clip of mine that he fished out of a drawer in the bathroom while I was blow drying his hair after a bath. He was determined. It had to come with him to bed. It would not do to place it on the night stand next to his bed, no. It needed to be IN the bed with him. I have no idea where or why this fixation originated, but I went with it, figuring it was not a battle to choose. And in the morning he had the lovely impression of the clip on the back of his arm. He also once brought the driver of one of his diggers to bed, and an occasional bulldozer or truck.

But in general, my kiddo doesn't like to sleep with anything. For a while I kept trying to get him to sleep with a stuffed animal, remembering with fondness the solace Papa Bear afforded me. But though he'd gamely show Monkey how to brush teeth and go potty, and he'd even let him sit in bed for story time, when it came time for the lights to go off, he'd push Monkey to the far edge of the bed. I eventually stopped pushing it, and have thereby saved a small fortune on the stuffed animals I would otherwise have bought for him. He couldn't care less.

My son's disinterest in stuffed animals, and his random, fleeting affection for the eccentric objects he chooses to bring to bed, has made me wonder what other toddlers are like. I'm also wondering if co-sleeping has anything to do with how toddlers attach (or don't) to comfort objects. Could co-sleeping make the need for a "lovie" less? I'm not sure, but I know that we've co-slept with Bean since birth (which has been an ideal arrangement for all three of us--as he was never what you'd call an "easy" sleeper, and everyone got more sleep in the same bed) and Bean has yet to show any interest in dragging any particular object to bed every night the way I did for the better part of my childhood.

Does your child have a comfort object that he or she brings to bed every night?

Say you live in highly residential neighborhood. Houses are tucked in close to one another. Lots are .1 acres. Say that you and the neighbors in question have nothing in common. Say they keep the abandoned hulks of old cars in their yard, while you keep chrysanthemums and sunflowers in yours.

Say that you have a neighbor whose dog yips and howls plaintively all day and all night. No exaggeration. Say you stroll past your neighbor's house and see that the dog is tied on a short lead, but there is a dog house near by, and it has water. The dog is skinny but not terribly so. It's just deprived for love. What do you do?

Or say you live in a rural neighborhood. Say you adore these neighbors because they will dig you out of a snow drift if you get stuck, and let your kid pet their ponies. But say their dog barks. Every night. All night. What do you do?

Really, is there anything you can do? Because Valium spiked hot dogs have begun to sound better and better.

Last Christmas, my mother bought Ellie a beautiful clock for her bedroom. It's a large clock that has helped her learn to tell time and looks really cute in her room. The clock has an alarm function, but until recently Ellie has shown no interest in using it. Why should she when she has me to get her up each morning? She's all cuddly in the morning and except for the getting up early part, I like being the one to wake her each day. I usually pick her up out of bed while she is still asleep and carry her down the stairs. She is getting big and this is one of the few times I am able to hold her this way. She wraps her arms and legs around me and snuggles in close until I deposit her on the couch.

But she's getting older and more independent these days and wants to do things for herself. Last night, she decided it was time she began using her alarm and getting herself up in the morning. I showed her how to set it and turn it on and off. As I left her room, I felt a little sad that she had reached this milestone in her life, but also proud of how she was growing up.

This morning when my alarm went off, I waited in bed until I heard the beeping of her clock. It kept beeping. It started beeping faster. And louder. It kept on until it was making a continuous loud tone that woke up the dog. But it didn't wake her. I went upstairs and found her sound asleep, inches away from the clock.

I turned it off and wrapped her up in her blanket and carried her down the stairs. For some reason, this made me happy. I don't recall when I began using an alarm clock to get myself up each morning, but clearly Ellie isn't ready for that. Do your kids get themselves up or are you their alarm clock, too?

I used to sing all the time. Back when I was in high school I was the kid with the windows rolled down, driving along with the radio turned way up and belting out her favorite tune. I tended toward anything 80's and glam metal with a little Patsy Cline thrown in for good measure.

This was back when I lived in Louisville, where everyone drove a car and there weren't ten thousand people all over you every step down the street. I would walk around my neighborhood and see perhaps two other people, and therefore sang at the top of my lungs all the way around the block.

It was invigorating and enlightening and fun. Then I moved to New York. For some reason, singing became embarrassing. I'd hear these people at the gym running on treadmills listening to their walkmans (you know, those things that played 'tapes' that were the precursor to discmans? Discman. It played a CD...remember those???) and belting out their favorite power ballad. They were always off key and out of breath and it was totally bizarre that they didn't care who heard them.

And who heard them? Everyone in the entire gym. I didn't want to be THAT person. So I stopped.

I am sitting here in my little makeshift office. It's a closet, really, a temporary bus stop until I move in to a new house, and there is a painfully sweet cup of tea on one side of me and a disorganized mass of sticky notes on the other, reminders of who to call and what I need to do once my toddler goes down for his nap at 1:00. Except it is 1:37, for the love of Pete, and he is still babbling in there. And I can't concentrate on anything except his rustling and sporadic moaning.

Until recently, Nolan used to go down for his 1:00 nap as easy as strawberry custard pie. I would read him a story about the little boy who hates his Toronto Maple Leafs jersey, we'd pretend to hoot like owls, I would wrap him in his blanket, present him with kitty, and lay him in his bed. Then we'd blow kisses at each other and I'd retreat slowly back to my desk.

I don't know what happened, but suddenly there is no sleeping at nap time. He rustles around in his bed, making peeping and hiccuping noises and singing odd little moany songs. I just peeked my head around his door and he was doing a half-handstand. The hell?

It's now 1:42. He has been rustling around in there for almost an hour, with no sign of shut-eye. He's only 21 months old -- is this already the end of nap time? I thought all the surprises were done -- experienced Internet Moms, what is the meaning of this absurdity?

For the last two days my toddler, Devon, has refused to obey the nap rules and sleep during his allotted 90 minutes of slumber. He is more than happy to sit through story time and then be plopped in his barred bed, but once he is tucked in he doesn't close his eyes. He begins to sing or recite dialog from Toy Story. I am not particularly bothered by this, he has yet to climb out of his crib and I figure any bit of time he spends happily by himself is good for both of us. What has taken me by surprise is his state when I go to fetch him after about an hour when he informs me he is ready by singing as loudly as possible, "Mai-Mai, where are you? I done my crib now!" I have discovered him completely naked for two days in a row now; happy as a clam, giving himself some self-love and naked as the day he was born.

Upon waking Devon has no desire to again don clothing. He prances about naked for the rest of the day, relieving his bodily needs outside and ducking under a blanket if he gets chilly. Luckily for my little guy our spring season has arrived and he can comfortably enjoy the outdoors his natural state. Since he is now 31 months and approaching potty training it also a great opportunity for him learn exactly what goes in his diapers. Fortunately for me we have yet to have a BM incident in the afternoons, a record I am hoping to maintain.

Personally I am tickled pink to see my son enjoying his nudity so much. He will soon grow up and become self conscious. For now his innocence is a joy to watch.

Bribery: it's a word mostly associated with corrupt authorities and politicians, but some journalist thought it was about time to accuse parents of the same thing for simply giving their children treats for good behavior. AP writer Martha Irvine writes, "Often the rewards are for behaviors their own parents would have simply expected, just because they said so. The new dynamic -- sometimes seen as a backlash to that strictness -- has some parenting experts wondering if today's parents have gone too soft."

Sound the alarms! Martha Irvine has discovered another way that today's parents are far worse than the many thousands of generations of parents that preceded them. Her next report: "Where are the Morals of These Kids Today With Their Skimpy Clothes and Video Games?" followed in a few years by, "Damn Kids Get Off My Lawn!"

To support her extremely in-depth 945-word article, Ms. Irvine consults two mothers and two "experts," one of whom suggests that today's parents are turning their kids into materialistic brats who don't know how to appreciate anything.

Yawn. I'll eat my laptop if my grandparents didn't do this to some extent with my parents as toddlers, or if Julius Caesar's didn't do it with him or if little Yuk-Yuk in the jungles of New Guinea four-thousand years ago didn't get an extra grubworm from his parents for crapping outside the hut rather than inside. Sometimes I get so sick of journalists and their shallow, transparent efforts to manufacture crises to make us all feel like crap.

It must be the month of sleep over here at Parent Dish. First, Sandy told us how she was having troubles with her granddaughter, Ellie. Then, Susan wowed all of us with the news that her kids go to bed at 7:30 pm.

Now it is my turn. My Ellie (who knew it was such a popular name?) has been pushing my buttons when it comes to sleep. She's 2.5, which means that she's in that prime "I don't want to ever sleep" stage. She'll sit in her room, whining, when it comes to nap time. I can tell she's tired; she can tell she's tired but...she won't sleep.

We've had the nights when she refuses to go to sleep. I'm dead serious, my child has managed to stay up until eleven o'clock, whining and crying and saying how she wants to go and watch TV or get a drink or look at the sky or anything else that doesn't involve laying in her bed.

My husband recently tossed around the idea that "maybe she doesn't need the nap." No, really, she does. I'm with her all day long and the child needs that down time.

The thing with having a napless toddler is that they are absolute pains when it comes to later in the day.

My husband and I are both night owls When we were originally setting our child's schedule, we took that into consideration. I am not a morning person; I'd much rather have a child that wakes up later and goes to sleep later than one who is up at the crack of dawn.

But, maybe it is time to look at changing her bedtime from her later one to an earlier one. But, honestly, I have nothing to compare her to. What is a normal bedtime for a 2-year-old? How long at night (on average) does (did) your child sleep?