Help. Me. Help me, please! It has been a while since I’ve had to negotiate with a tiny chubby faced terrorist, but I can assure you they have evolved their tactics over the past 10 years. I was lulled into a false sense of security thinking I had won the battle of sleep training. Insert uncontrollable, but maniacal baby laughter while he rubs his dimpled little hands together.
A few weeks ago I wrote about the struggles of sleep training, but relishing in the fact that I only had to be the “pacifier fairy” and he would never fully awaken. This past week he has upped the ante. There’s no pacifier fairy anymore. The only thing left is this shell of a mom with her eye lids half glued together begging all the Gods ever recorded in history to please let this child of mine stay asleep.
I know this phase will be short lived, and pass quicker than I realize. I’m aware that with the blink of an eye I’ll have a preschooler that is increasingly refusing my snuggles, and sleeping through the night like a champ. Soon these sleepless nights will be a distant memory and finger paints and superheros will take over my world, but for now…for now I’m running on fumes and cold coffee.
Two nights ago I got exactly 2.78 seconds of sleep. The baby woke up at 8. He woke up at 9. He partied from 10:30-12:30. He decided to have a rave from 2-3. At 5 AM he threw caution to the wind and went all out declaring victory as he crawled over my exhausted body sprawled on the carpet. OK, so I’m exaggerating on the crawling over my sprawled out body. I was more like curled in a ball watching his shenanigans through one eye, while the other eye was still trying to rest.
While I am still determined to win this war, he may be winning this battle. I’m searching for my white flag, but hoping provisions and reinforcements will be sent soon. The outlook is grim, but I’m hanging on. I am the adult gosh dangit! I make the rules. I make the bedtime. Someone tell the baby that! Does anyone know if Starbucks delivers at 3 AM?!