My husband gave me the kindest compliment this morning in ages. It wasn’t about how I look, or what I’d cooked or made, but it was about how I handled myself in the middle of the night. You see, we are currently sleep training our 4-year-old for the, oh I don’t know, 678th time. And I generally do NOT behave well in the middle of the night when I am awoken up to 12 times over the course of the night.
Harper has been shit house at sleep since she turned about 8 months old. Who knows why, or how, but she just plain sucks at it. I have written endless posts about this so I’ll leave it at that. For the past, I can’t even remember how long, she has been coming into our bedroom and sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Yep, like a dog. I refused to have her in bed with us a second longer, and I was too exhausted and just plain over any kind of sleep training that I gave up. I mean really, WHO CARES. She was sleeping. We were sleeping. Everyone was happy. When we went up to the farm over Christmas Harper was sleeping in a bunk bed. Now she sleeps in a bunk bed at home, but she got to sleep on the TOP bunk bed. I told her this meant that when she woke up, she wouldn’t be able to climb down, she would just have to suck it up, call out for me and then go back to sleep. And I’ll be damned, she did it. Every night for 9 nights (one night I was too tired to get up so I got lazy and whacked her into bed with us). EVERY NIGHT. She just did.
And then we got home and the old patterns emerged. Except I played tough cop and told her there was no more mattress for you! She COULD do it, had JUST DONE IT, and by GOD SHE WOULD DO IT AGAIN.
Except of course she isn’t. She hasn’t. And she didn’t.
And because I am a determined bastard sometimes I am not backing down. I’m trying to move forward, and so we are once again going back, and I can barely see straight from the endless wake ups. The girl just wakes up. And she can’t get back to sleep. And she isn’t upset, or angry, or scared…just awake. So she reads for a bit. Changes her mind and moves bed hoping THAT will do the trick (back into her old bedroom, back into the guest bedroom, just standing over me watching me sleep) and eventually after the 15th time, she goes back to sleep.
And I’m tired. But happy that even though we are going back, I’m doing better at it. And she will get there. And one day there will be no sleep issues…she will sleep….like her sister sleeps. And life will be good and there will be a different challenge that we will face.
Getting some good sleep lately?
Isn’t it amazing when you don’t get any, how obsessed and panicked you become about it?