For the last 6 years, in some form or another, I’ve had to lay with my youngest son until he was breathing evenly or snoring in my ear. Whether it was while I was rocking him, bringing him to my bed until he falls asleep and then moving him to his room or…just staying in his bed until I could leave without disturbing him. Sometimes (most of the time) I’d pass out from exhaustion and my husband would come and get me when it was time for us to go to bed. Which is why I tweet late at night. I’ve already had my nap.
I’ve been his blankie, his stuffed animal, and for a time, even his pacifier.
I’ve had tennis elbow in my right arm, a pinched nerve in the left side of my neck, bags under my eyes and a bad morning disposition. I’ve been a falling apart, falling down mess.
Thank goodness for cover-up to soften those dark circles and hair dye to soften the grey.
For the last 6 years, now almost 7, I haven’t slept without a massive heat-generating, heavy breather attached to me at some point during the night (I’m not talking about my husband for all of you who let your mind go “there”).
I’ve not had many uninterrupted nights of sleep, which have been well documented throughout my blog over the last 4 years.
I’ve not had many evenings of quiet, productive time because usually, as I wait for my son to fall asleep, I’m the one passing out first. At least 95% of the time.
For the last 6, going on 7, years.
Then I decided enough was enough, this has gone on long enough.
I decided NO MORE.
I wasn’t going to play nice Mommy anymore because I’m worried about screwing up my sons sleep patterns and I began growing worried about anyone who would share a bed with him in the future. (UGH).
So, for a few days, I made him go in his bed by himself. Then, I would come in and read to him.
THEN…I would lie and say that I had to go to the bathroom. For a really long time.
He would call out for me for a bit and I’d just keep on ignoring him.
Eventually, he’d just pass out and sleep until morning.
For a few nights in a row.
The crying it out method worked.
Except, there was no crying.
Or projectile vomiting.
Or screaming and throwing things.
Like there used to be when he was a wee little one and I tried the whole crying it out method.
For a few nights in a row, I didn’t fall asleep in his bed and wake up at midnight only to go into my bed.
He got sick.
We’re back to the drawing board.
Well hopefully, next week when he is feeling better, I’ll use bigger guns.
Also, please go read my latest post on If This Couch Could Talk about kids and violent video games. Please remember to “Like” it! Thanks so much!