Strolling with Nemo, trying to keep him busy…
Too bad my husband has the “I want to sleep in my bed alone with my wife again” blues. And so my ‘lazy’ got itself kicked out of the bed last evening along with the tiny one. As everyone can probably remember, last week Jp was sick and that threw his sleep schedule into a tailspin that fixing will be a terribly no-fun amount of work (for me) to get back to normal. For those that haven’t been following me for all that long, Jp’s sleep schedule has always been nothing short of a hot mess. It took blood, sweat, and tears (literally) to get him where he was before he was sick and I have to admit, I’ve been dreading the process for more than a few reasons.
When your child is sick with a fever, you let them sleep when and if they can. The hours are blurring into days and sometimes you may not even notice how late the nap is or how late you are up. So now Jp keeps taking these inappropriately late naps. Naps that I can’t seem to change the time of or coerce him into skipping altogether. Second obstacle. When they have a fever that is moderate to high, you tend to let them sleep with you since you want to keep an eye on them overnight and now Jp is used to sleeping with us in the bed. It’s a hard habit to break. Then, as life would have it, the time change is always challenging in a toddler’s sleep schedule, and this is magnified even more so when their ‘schedule’ is more of a free-for-all of mayhem.
Yesterday, in an attempt to get him to skip the nap and make nighttime a bit easier, I tried to keep him busy (but not too busy) all afternoon. I set him down with some soup for lunch and while I was wiping up the mess from making it, he passed out with his tiny face on the table. When I tried to wake him….nothing. Out cold. It was 4:15. Cheese and crackers.
So when it came to bed time I thought, “What’s one more night in our bed?”. But Chris gave me a hard time. It was a gentle razzing that is just enough funny to make me laugh coupled with just enough truth to make me see that he wanted me to start working on it again. Trademark Christopher move. The queen bed just wasn’t big enough for the three of us, really, so I shook off the lazies and when bedtime came up, we all went upstairs and I steered a very confused Jp to his room and started to make up his bed.
Before, when I started working on the bedtime routine (now broken) it began with taking him upwards of an hour of playing to finally get to sleep all the while with me sitting in the mind numbing darkness and praying he would just knock off already. By the end, it was 3 songs and 15-20 minutes.
We’re back in the beginning. Square one. God, I was dreading this.
So, at first he’s giving me the, “What are we doing in here, this isn’t where we sleep” look. Which is cute as a button but no fly, buddy. Some tears, random flailing, and finally acceptance and laying down. We are already twenty minutes in.
It’s going to be a long night.
30 minutes pass. Shift, flail, roll, flip. turn over.
40 minutes pass. Whimper, whine, turn, kick, kick.
An hour goes by. Quiet. But each attempt to move (stop cracking old lady body!) is met by a whimper and a worried plea.
80 minutes march by and finally the only audible sound is his even and comfortable breathing.
I sneak out, brain almost in a state of zen seen in the use of sensory deprivation (if the room isn’t pitch black, he can’t sleep) and crawl into my bed. Oh, how wonderful the bed feels with just two people in it! I can move my arms and turn over…it’s like a wonderful dream come true!
So, thanks to my husband’s gentle ribbing, I finally started what will be a long process to get the sleep schedule back on track. Though every great thing accomplished always starts with the first step and I’m glad my husband pushed me into mine.
Because a full, comfortable night’s sleep was totally worth it.
I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.