My daughter turned eight last weekend. She celebrated with her first sleepover. 

I know. The phrase every parent said to me as they dropped their child off that afternoon (delightedly, might I add – because they were then heading out for dinner and wine) was: “You’re brave. Good luck.”

I did stop, for a moment, to wonder exactly what I was thinking when I agreed to host six seven-year-olds for an entire Saturday night, from 4pm until 10am the next morning. But the tradition of a sleepover is a rite of passage. I vividly remember the fun, excitement and sugar-highs of going to friends’ houses 30 years ago, and that’s something I want my kids to experience, too – even with the very real risk of at least one child crying and wanting to go home. 

I was 10 years old when I had my first sleepover. Unlike my daughter, who chose to do ‘makeovers’ in her bedroom with her friends, my mum blindfolded us all to play a game called ‘Nelson’s Grave’, in which you hand around innocuous items like peeled grapes and cold spaghetti. You’re then told a spooky story that makes you believe you’re holding body parts like eyeballs and intestines. Only… unlucky for my friends, my uncle was a butcher. We really were holding cold intestines – and a pig’s nipple. 

Understandably, perhaps, I’ve never forgotten my first sleepover – and I’m sure my daughter won’t either. Not least because she had some very firm ideas for what it was going to entail. She created a 38-point plan – yes, 38! – of activities, ranging from “wake up” and “have a disco” to “read books and tell each other things about the book” – all before 6.30am. 

There was also the (frankly adorable) point 36 – “my friends go home” – followed by 37, “wave out of the window”, winding up with 38: “Sleepover accomplished”. 

In fact, she was so excited at the prospect of her friends coming over for an entire night that she created her own calendar countdown; carefully writing out the days and dates next to tiny squares and diligently ‘ticking off’ every morning for two weeks leading up to the big day. 

And that’s the thing about sleepovers – or more accurately, about being a kid: there’s beauty in the simple things. It’s something us grown-ups often forget, because we’re so bone-achingly tired all the time, beaten down by the pressures of life. 

For my daughter, though, the promise of a sleepover was inextricably linked to the prospect of fun, laughter and friendship.

On the night itself – because that’s what you really want to know about, isn’t it? – there was so much joy. From the pleasure of sharing pizza, popcorn, a ‘midnight feast’ (at 9pm) and a cacophony of giggling; to the childlike hysteria over a ‘kissing’ scene in the PG-rated family film, and a gentle fight over who got to cuddle ‘Kevin’, the giant carrot. 

When it was time for bed, they spent hours cackling in the bedroom until they exhausted themselves in the early hours of Sunday morning. And while the reality of it may also have involved grown-ups getting increasingly grumpy after midnight – with various threats to send everybody home and strict rules on absolute silence – it’s a joy I know my daughter will always remember.  

There was even joy in the tears and tiredness the day after. A bittersweet recognition of having experienced something wonderful, amidst the sadness that what she had looked forward to for so long was now over. 

Point 38 was right. Sleepover accomplished – even if at times it felt like nobody would ever sleep again. 

If that hasn’t put you off, and your child is having their first sleepover soon, don’t make the mistakes I did. Here’s how to survive the first all-night party. 

Don’t give them too much sugar. 

Some sugar is inevitable, of course. My daughter had popcorn and a packet of Oreos to share with her friends as the token ‘midnight feast’. But tread carefully. That way sleepless hysteria, lies. Extra tip: make the ‘midnight feast’ a lot earlier than midnight. Say, 9pm. 

Don’t expect anyone to go to sleep before 1am. 

We tried to foolishly impose a ‘no talking quiet zone’ at 11pm. Mistake. They were still giggling and chatting at 12.30. Choose the latest time you can handle, set that as the boundary, and stick to it. 

Keep the other parents on speed-dial.

It didn’t happen to me, but I’ve heard lots of stories from other parents of kids getting teary-eyed and wanting to go home at bedtime. So keep the other parents on speed-dial – or, at least, warn them not to drink too many cocktails, as they may need to come and pick their child up. 

Prepare yourself for a very early start.

It doesn’t matter how late they finally give in and go to sleep, they will still wake up at the crack of dawn. Best thing to do? Tell them the night before they can go downstairs and watch TV by themselves “as a treat”, allowing you to grab a few extra minutes in bed. It’ll all add to their sense of fun and independence.

Accept there will be tears.

There will be tears on the night itself (there will also, probably, be a couple of arguments) and the day after, once your child realises it’s all over – until next year. Get tissues. Be gentle. Steel yourself. 

Know that the next day will be a write-off.

Don’t plan anything for the day after a sleepover. Your child will be a demon. Stick to a film and something low-key – preferably nothing that involves them having a tantrum, in public – and an early night. 

And, as the parents said to me: you’re brave. Good luck.