She’s been absent for a little over a week. Calls to her home went unanswered. Another student of mine, her neighbor, told me, “The cops were there late one night. I saw the lights from my window.”
I worried, and wondered if she would return. A month later, she did, a quieter version of the already quiet child she had been. And then the story, domestic violence, an ambulance for her mother, and now she lived in a shelter while they tried to pick up the pieces.
Her first day back, she fell asleep before lunch, in a beanbag in our reading nook. Another day it was under a tree at recess. And the third time, it was during silent reading. She had a social worker and a clean, safe place to stay.
So I asked her why she was so tired, and was there anything I could do to help her stay awake during the day. She told me she never slept anymore at night. It was quiet, too quiet for her, when she was so used to loud television and fights.
And when the lights went out, and she was wide awake, she remembered everything, and despite many families in other rooms down the hall, she felt alone and scared all night. During my years teaching, I worked with many children whose lives had been disrupted by domestic violence, shelter stays, and sudden housing changes.
Moments like this are common in domestic violence shelters and transitional housing programs, where many children arrive already carrying stress, uncertainty, and exhaustion.
Anyone who has spent time around children has seen this moment. The child is obviously tired.
Their eyelids are heavy, their body is a little bit saggy, like a doll ready to drop. But instead of drifting off to sleep, it is as if a switch is flicked and they become more alert. They then become more animated and may want to play. They usually need a few more sips of water or another trip to the bathroom. And even if they are staying in bed, they might be tossing and turning, just not able to relax.
Staff in residential programs often notice the same pattern. One shelter worker explained it this way: “Many of our kids are exhausted, but they can’t turn their brains off when the sun goes down.” Adults sometimes assume the child is avoiding sleep, or trying to be difficult. But the opposite is true.
The child wants to sleep, but their body is still filled with adrenaline, running on stress, and often replaying memories of the challenges that brought them to the center. Kids who are tired, but wired, don’t fall asleep quickly, don’t sleep very well, and often wake up exhausted.
Another common bedtime pattern is the child who appears fine throughout the evening and then once bedtime approaches, turns into a puddle of tears. This moment can come as a surprise to adults who watched the child play with other children, enjoy mealtime, and do their homework or other evening activity.
A staff member in a transitional housing program once described it like this: “Bedtime is when kids feel all the feels. During the day the kids hold it together, but at night, it’s like a dam broke loose.” Children, even those who are not in transitional housing and facing challenging and uncertain times, often process big emotions at night. To child psychologists and other professionals who work with children, it isn’t that surprising.
Many children stuff emotions down while they are surrounded by activity and other people. But when the day is done, and the night is filled with silence, these emotions finally have the space to surface. They may surface in a big way, and a child who begins crying at bedtime may not even be able to explain why. They might share a lot of reasons: they miss home, they’re worried about a parent, about being in a new school, or say that they just can’t sleep here. Because here, is somewhere new.
With a new environment, expectations, people, and routines, sleep doesn’t often feel safe. Even when the place they are in is actually safe, the memories that swirl in the darkness are not. What adults are witnessing in that moment is emotional processing catching up with the child.
Some children respond to bedtime stress in a different way. Instead of crying, they talk. And not a little chatter, they kind of turn bedtime into a filibuster moment. They ask questions, tell stories, want extra comfort, and need those extra sips and bathroom. These requests can continue long after lights are supposed to be out.
For exhausted adults who simply want a bit of quiet or to sleep themselves, this can feel like stalling. But residential staff often see something deeper happening. One staff member explained: “These kids are anxious at night, and they just don’t want to be alone with their thoughts.” Conversation becomes a way for children to stay connected to another person.
For children who have experienced instability, that connection can feel very important at night.
Some children simply resist going to sleep at all. They may say they aren’t tired, want the lights to stay on, or need a caregiver by their side. Because, for children who have experienced domestic violence or sudden upheaval, nighttime is scary and sleeping feels vulnerable.
When a child is asleep, they can’t scan their environment for danger. In sleep, they are afraid they may miss the sounds that something is about to happen. Even when a child is in a safe environment, their brain and body may still act on guard, staying alert for anything dangerous that might come their way.
A student of mine, removed from a domestic situation, told me at night he had to listen for “the truck to pull up.” It was his mom’s boyfriend, and if it was late, and he had been drinking, my student knew he needed to be ready for what could happen when he walked through the door. “Some of our kids don’t want to sleep because they’re afraid something will happen while they’re asleep,”
But his social worker told me he was still listening for the truck, even though he was now in safe housing. Helping children with traumatic pasts settle often requires reassurance and calm presence rather than strict rules around bedtime. Over time, predictable routines and calming activities can help the body relearn that nighttime can be safe.
When children are not sleeping well night after night, it begins to show up during the day. Many children in domestic violence shelters or transitional housing are already trying to adjust to enormous changes in their lives. When sleep is disrupted on top of that, their ability to cope becomes even harder.
Children who are not getting enough sleep often struggle to focus or learn. Teachers and residential staff may notice that a child has difficulty paying attention, remembering instructions, or completing simple tasks. Frustration tolerance also drops, which means small problems can quickly turn into big reactions and behavior escalations because the child’s brain and body are simply worn out.
Like adults, some tired children become more irritable or impulsive. Others seem unusually quiet, withdrawn, or emotionally fragile. Sleep also plays an important role in physical health. When children are not sleeping well, their immune systems are under more strain and they may become sick more often.
Anxiety and sadness can also become stronger when sleep is disrupted. A tired brain has a harder time settling worries or regulating emotions. For children already coping with instability or fear, restorative sleep becomes even more important. Helping children calm their minds and bodies enough to sleep is not just about the nighttime routine.
It supports their ability to learn, cope, feel calmer during the day, and have overall better well-being in mind and body. The goal is not to force sleep, which doesn’t work anyway. The goal is to help children feel calm enough that sleep becomes possible.
Stories have helped children fall asleep for generations. A calm voice telling a story gives the mind something gentle to focus on. Instead of replaying worries or stressful experiences, the child’s attention follows the narrative.
As the story unfolds, breathing often slows and muscles begin to loosen. The mind gradually shifts away from anxious thoughts.
For children who struggle to fall asleep, stories can act as a bridge between the activity of the day and the quiet required for sleep. When storytelling is designed intentionally for relaxation, the pacing, tone, and imagery can help guide the body toward rest. Many children fall asleep during the story itself. Others simply relax enough that sleep becomes possible afterward.
Programs supporting children in domestic violence shelters or transitional housing often look for simple ways to help children calm their minds and bodies at night without increasing staff workload. Wee Meditate is a story based audio library designed to help children relax, regulate, and fall asleep through gentle storytelling and guided imagery.
Many residential programs use the Comfort Corner section as part of their evening routines, allowing children to listen to calming stories during moments of stress, fear, or difficulty sleeping. Explore our Comfort Corner, and meditation library, or contact us to learn more.
Founder of Wee Meditate and former special education teacher. Author of The Wolf Pack Classroom Management Plan, which received the Benjamin Franklin Award for Best Education Book.
