He is also the boy who is feisty and very strong willed. We seem to always have some area of our life that is a battle, how ever we approach it. Whether it is getting dressed in the morning, eating a meal other than Cheerios, taking a bath at night or putting away our toys, it's usually fraught with screaming, kicking, and a lot of tears, mostly mine.
There hasn't been a phase in my son's short life that wasn't a challenge. When he was an infant, it was the spitting up. The child was a fountain. He never fussed with colic but I know he struggled with baby indigestion. He was nursed so I changed my diet and weeded out nuts and diary. That didn't end it so we just lived in a constant puddle of spewage.
When he learned to walk, we never rested. Constantly we pulled him from cabinets, stairs, locked doors and placed laundry baskets, wallets, and keys high up and out of reach. He hated wearing shoes but was on the go constantly so much of his walking days were spent indoors, tearing things apart.
But there is one battle we seem to never grow out of. A fight that exhausts me to my core and makes me consider personally removing my lady bits so that I can never have kids again.I love you, I promise, but the battle over bedtime makes me wish for miracle sterilization. I would like to just wake up on day without the ability to have another child that WON'T SLEEP!
EVER!
I've never hidden the fact that sleep is not our strong point. I've written about it before in these posts here and here. Some of the sleeping issues are due to my mistakes as a first time mommy but they are also fueled by my son's high needs personality.
As a baby, he slept best when on us. His naps were usually conducted on someone chest or in someone's arms.
On Papa
On me
On Nona
On Uncle Mike
At one point, I was able to move him from my bed to his own, with only one point at night when he would wake and make his way into my bed and there, we would sleep until morning. Then miraculously, my son slept through the night. IN HIS OWN BED!
On Nona
On Uncle MikeFor me, a single mother, it made life easier. He was closer for nursing, which he did till he was 21 months old. It allowed me to sleep at night when he nursed frequently. Plus, who doesn't love a baby to cuddle with in those dim early hours of the morning when the sun is slowly making its way to the horizon to greet you. His little feet and little hands tucked into me, the slight rumble of a snore at the back of his throat.
Some may say I have no right to complain. I created this monster by allowing him to sleep in my bed in the first place. Before that thought takes flight, let me say Jake did sleep in his own crib until he was 5 months old. But the summer of 2006 was unusually horrid weather wise and my son slept best wrapped like a burrito. Once the humidity hit, the kind that last through the night and brings with it thunder, lightening and the occasional power outage, he couldn't sleep comfortably in his wrapper. So out he came and sleep was hard to achieve.
Co-sleeping then began and together we slept well. He still didn't sleep through the night but our sleep was more peaceful and there was less crying as we slept and nursed together.
Some may say I have no right to complain. I created this monster by allowing him to sleep in my bed in the first place. Before that thought takes flight, let me say Jake did sleep in his own crib until he was 5 months old. But the summer of 2006 was unusually horrid weather wise and my son slept best wrapped like a burrito. Once the humidity hit, the kind that last through the night and brings with it thunder, lightening and the occasional power outage, he couldn't sleep comfortably in his wrapper. So out he came and sleep was hard to achieve.
Co-sleeping then began and together we slept well. He still didn't sleep through the night but our sleep was more peaceful and there was less crying as we slept and nursed together.
It took some training and a few nights of crying at the beginning of bed time but, soon we were sleeping in separate beds and mostly through the night.Those are days long gone. Now I have a pissed off 3 1/2 year old that can tantrum for a good 3 hours straight in the middle of the night. I wish I could say I handle these as the perfect parent I am in my dreams, but I don't. I scream back, I mercilessly put him back in his bed then shut the door, I cry and I tantrum right along with him.
Tomorrow we visit the doctor in hopes for some answers for at least to be pointed in a direction we haven't thought of. I have no expectations....only hopes. And dreams. Sweet dreams of sleep.
