Night Waking Hell

by Heligirl on March 22, 2010

in Daily Ramblings

Someone up there doesn’t like me very much. Either that or I’m the butt of some pretty serious jokes that are keeping the heavenly creatures laughing well into the night.

I’m close to more than four years of poor sleep now (I count those nine months of swollen, irregular digestion, insomnia, hot flashes and hourly bathroom breaks of a pregnancy with Sweetness in my calculations) and it’s taking its toll is a most unflattering way. My Clinique bill is not pretty as my insecurity over aging has lead me to splurge on all manners of lotions and potions to cover up the stress and tired wrinkles, bags and circles. I’m not sure they’re working.

My Tivoed TV shows are going unwatched, new DVDs remain unopened, books unread except for research for this site or my own sanity, and the house looks like a dust mite vacation destination. All because I’m so blasted tired. So why, oh why Dear God, must I not be allowed to sleep.

Here’s the deal. Mr. Man FINALLY discovered sleeping through the night. It took him a good seven months longer than Sweetness, but he found it. As I remember Sweetness did, he will sleep a good seven to nine hours a couple of nights, have a night where he wakes, then another sleep night, etc., with the sleep nights now outweighing the waking nights. His ability to find his binky himself in the crib and the recent addition of a little stuffed dog to his crib he  likes to snuggle now that he’s past the SIDS stage have helped. Mommy thought she was finally home free.

Not so it seems. Friday, a little over two weeks into Mr. Man’s sleeping most nights,  at about 2:30 a.m. I hear: “Lamby Hug!” This is Sweetness’s plea for comfort. I’m to hug her with her little lamb blanket. I worried she might be sick and got up. There she was, standing in the hall, crying to herself. We went back to her room, had a hug, she went back to bed, and I tossed and turned for two hours before falling asleep myself. But if I want a shower, and time to pump and do the dog’s physical therapy before all hell breaks loose (read here: the kids rise) I need to be up at 6. And even then, it’s a crap shoot. So little sleep for mommy Friday night.

Saturday night Hubby and I had a date, getting to bed at 10:30 p.m. Mr. Man had a 12:30 am wakeup call. And the 6 a.m. rule still applies. Needless to say, last night I was more than ready for a good night’s sleep. I passed out at 9, to be woken at 11 p.m. by crying. At first I figured it was Mr. Man wanting his milk. But that wasn’t his cry. Hubby got up, read Sweetness a book and told me she fell back asleep. Then came the 12:30 a.m. wake up call. Again, Sweetness. She was in her room crying hard. Now I was worried that she was either sick or having night terrors.  I asked her if she was scared, NO! Something hurt? NO! Do you want your fan on? NO! Light on? NO! Snuggles? Snuggles in mommy’s bed.

I was too tired to argue. She grabbed her froggy and followed me to my room, crawled into bed, wiggled around a bit between Hubby and me, turned, put an arm over me and passed out. I was afraid to move, hanging off the end of our queen bed, wide awake . It was short lived. She tossed and turned a lot, finally announcing an hour later that she wanted play, then acquiesced that she could to go back to her bed. I took here there, and she got into bed, kissed me and fell asleep. And the little creature was up at 6:50 am. That’s it? 50 more minutes of sleep for three hours of missed sleep?, I wanted to scream to the heavens.

I’m sure there is some kind of development phase taking place. My job today is to research what it could be and if there is anything I can do to help. More exercise? Less exercise? More pasta before bed? Tylenol for growing or molar pain (she does have one last molar due)? Set up her bed in the shed outside? Mommy wear earplugs? I HAVE to get my sleep back. Which reminds me, I need to go to Macy’s and hit the Clinique counter today.

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