Maybe tonight they will stay here, all night, and accept the beautiful medicine of sleep. There is no greater joy than this, the puzzle pieces of those two bodies fitting perfectly into mine. If you need to come in, lie down on this mat, and don’t wake me.Īt night, after stories and turning out lights, both girls and I lie in bed, listening to the fan whir. I say, That wasn’t really working for our family, so we’re going to try something else. My daughter doesn’t want to talk about why she needs a grown-up, or why she wakes every hour, or the locking. Now I understand: I have been parenting the child I want her to be, and not the child she is. There is no sleep silver bullet, just the tarnished brass of a deadbolt. I don’t think it’s going to work.Īll the experts were wrong. We are desperately tired, scarred and scared.įinally she says, She’s a very advanced case.
She pounds on the door so hard that the vibrations reach through my Ambien walls of sleep.Īfter the third night, I call the doctor, in tears. My instincts are saying no, no, no, but I do what the doctor, the experts, say.Īll night. And the notes, the I’m sorry notes - too much. We spend the day together, playing cards and drawing. Neither of us has slept for more than an hour.
Sleepytime tea nightmares professional#
Could every professional be wrong? My instincts say yes, but I’ve never really been on speaking terms with my instincts. She writes “I’m sorry” on scraps of paper and slips them under the door. I would never leave you, I tell her through the closed door, going off script. For a week she has been waking up at the end of every sleep cycle. She appears at the side of the bed, a living ghost, clutching her monkey lovey and staring with a haunted look on her face. Everyone in the house slept, for five months. Bedtime was still a nightmare, but my older daughter stayed in her room until morning. They could have videos and sugar - they could have anything, really - if they would stay in it. Maybe this was what was right for our family, but with all the noise from the other families and doctors, I couldn’t tell.įinally, in February of last year, we bought them a bunk bed, as a bribe. They filled me with gratitude, almost an ache of it. When I went to bed at night, there were my girls, nestled on the futon next to my bed, twins in organic cotton utero. Maybe if I didn’t live in the over-parenting capital of Brooklyn, surrounded by families that seemed so competent and secure, I wouldn’t have minded. Say nighttime is only for sleeping, not for tantrums or waking Mama. They said make a chart, with what needs doing before bed.
Indeed, we had tried cry-it-out sleep training - successfully - when she was 5 months old, but at this point we couldn’t bring ourselves to do it again. (She would be like me, I thought to myself.) Most of the time I don’t and I wish I did….The doctors - my doctor, her doctor - warned that if she didn’t learn to sleep on her own, she’d have lifelong problems: anxiety, depression, reduced executive function. Last night I had a grilled cheese and broccoli pre-run and a massive yogurt bowl with 2 Vitatops post-run. These will be the last flowers I get from Ben for a long time because using my water bottle as a vase isn’t really helpful to my thirst, or pretty to look at… I stocked up when they were in season I’ve got to use this wisely, since it won’t be around again until October!!! Oh, and I totally added some to my oat bran post pic. I prefer oat bran to oats, but it’s still just “eh”. It’ll be a while because I wanted something warm since it’s cold out, but I should have went with eggs. This is the last time because I start training for my next race Friday! I cannot let myself off easy again for another 10 weeks! AHHH!!!įor breakfast I had my last bowl of oat bran for a long time. I wasn’t feeling it and let myself walk the last mile back. I had my last easy run for a long time today.
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