I began my post earlier with some very poignant thoughts and insight regarding how things are going for me right now, but it turned into a mindless, rambling rant, so I tucked it away into my prayer journal that only I, God and perhaps whomever inherits my computer files will see someday. Blogging is tougher than I thought it would be. You know why? Because now I don’t feel free to ramble whatever comes to my mind. I wish I could do that, but when I start to do that, I risk feeling too transparent and vulnerable. Sometimes it’s good to just empty your trash behind closed doors and put on a happy face for the rest of the world. I actually hate doing that. I’m super transparent and don’t like putting on a happy face just to save face. But, for the sake of not dragging the world (or my 4 readers) down with me, I will refrain from unloading.
Truthfully, there’s not much to unload other than the usual: I’m tired. I see no end to the tired. I have responsibilities that make it hard for me to stay tired. I’m no different than anyone else with children or 50 million things on their plate. My burden is no more difficult to bear than anyone else. Everyone has a problem. Everyone has issues they are dealing with. Mine are unique to me, but not unique to the world. So, why then can’t I just let it go? Why do I have to take my tiredness personally? Where does the conflict lie here?
Well, to be honest, I’ve been asking myself some difficult questions all day today. I woke up bitter and resentful. This was my second day in a row to wake up before 6am with the baby after sleeping with him and nursing him back to sleep all night long. I’ve run through all the scenarios of why he isn’t sleeping well. He slept well until about 3 months ago. Since then, my life has been on hold. I have seriously contemplated letting him “cry it out” as some books, some friends and some family suggest. But, after 2 failed attempts, I just don’t think I have it in me. I tried it with my older son as well since he was never a good sleeper either. I wanted so badly for it to work for me, but I couldn’t do it. I read all the books before I had my first child that suggested that children need to self sooth and be allowed to cry themselves to sleep in order to learn how to sleep better. When I read those books prior to having children, I thought, “Hmmm…seems easy enough. Children should not rule the house, after all. They need structure. I need a life. If it takes a few nights of screaming, so be it.” That all changed when he was born. I hated even hearing the slightest whimper. Now, I’m a little more callous, I must admit. As he’s gotten older, I have less and less of a hard time hearing him cry — especially if he’s been disciplined. But, I still can’t tune it out. It’s just not in me. And that’s ok.
At first I thought that my inability to let my child cry it out was a weakness on my part. I had so many friends who were able to flawlessly “put their child to bed”. I wanted to be that parent. I thought I wanted to be the type of parent who sets the stage for how things are going to be and not be controlled by a child’s rhythm of life. But, as time has gone on, I have become a parent that fits my lifestyle and my family’s lifestyle. Sure, I second-guess myself all the time. I wish my oldest would just go to bed when it’s time, and we wouldn’t have to coax him and lure him into his room. But, we have made such headway. He now goes to his room when it is time and even though my husband or I many times have to lie with him, he eventually falls asleep and sleeps through the night most nights.
My baby, on the other hand, is a different story. He is such a good, sweet baby. He is happy. He is easy-going. But the kid is torturing me at night. Night after night I put him to bed at around the same time. I bathe him. I get him dressed for bed. We read stories. We talk to his Mr. Owl. I sing to him. I nurse him. He falls asleep. I put him in his crib. I leave the room. I go about my life. And night after night, he awakes after 30-45 minutes and wants to nurse again. Then I put him back to bed. Then, if I’m lucky, he sleeps til 10pm and awakes again wanting to nurse. This cycle continues ALL NIGHT LONG! I seriously find myself wondering what I did in a former life to deserve such torture. Now, I have read all the books. And I mean ALL THE BOOKS on this topic. I know the age-old theory that if you put a baby to bed half asleep and let him fall asleep on his own he won’t wake up wondering where you are and will eventually put himself back to sleep. This was never the case with my first child and has not yet been the case for the second child. Again, maybe I just don’t have the stamina to hear my kids screaming at the top of their lungs as if they are being tied up by their feet and dragged through broken glass, so maybe this is truly a weakness on my part. But, whatever…I’ll admit to some weakness here and there.
All that to say, I am seriously conflicted with this whole sleep thing, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this conflicted about anything else in my life. That’s pretty extreme. I know. But, the subject causes me some pretty major anxiety. On one hand, I do want my life semi-back. I know that I have kids, so my life IS my kids right now. I get that. But, I’d like to be able to put my kids to bed at a decent time at night and read or lie in front of the tv or have a conversation with my husband without a million interruptions or catch up on emails or a hobby I enjoy. I’m painfully missing being able to count on a break at night, and I’m dreading nights right now because I know they will most likely be more exhausting than the day I just had.
Anyway…I wanted to avoid ranting or complaining, but truthfully, I needed to get this stuff out in a constructive way. (btw-my original post was much more angry and hostile)
I truly want to make some positive decisions for this upcoming year and not let myself be brought down by things as trivial as sleep deprivation. I know this will not last forever. It can’t. If it does, I will die. But, really…it can’t. So, I’m praying that God would give me strength to make it through and I keep praying that my son would start sleeping longer periods of time. I know he can do it. Go Julian! Sleep, Baby! Sleepppppppppppp!!!!!
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