It's what time?
We're doing a bit of impromptu sleep training here at the Loopie house, in case anybody is wondering what I'm doing awake at this frakkin' hour of the morning.
Buddy, who has always been a good sleeper, has been unable to sleep through the night for the past couple of weeks or so. Most nights he wakes up howling some time between midnight and four. My strategy has been to get him back to sleep as quickly as possible by giving him a couple of ounces of milk and sitting with him until he calms down. Easy, but really starting to wear on me (I looked at the calendar and realized that the period of him not sleeping neatly coincided with the period of me being so tired that I haven't been getting any exercise, which makes me even more tired).
Tonight the Hubby got up and spent a good chunk of time talking to the boy, soothing him, stroking his back, without taking him out of his crib. He really wanted me, but allowed himself to be soothed back to sleep by his dada. The Hubby crawled back into bed, we had a few moments of peace, and then realized that the cat was vomiting.
Thinking it fair that we take turns, I got up to deal with the cat. I carefully closed the bedroom door (I should mention that Buddy sleeps in our room) and tiptoed away before making any sound. Not carefully enough.
Half an hour later the Hubby is in his office, I'm in front of my computer, and Buddy is still calling for mama.
On a lighter note, we had an archetypal parenting experience last week. Everyone was up, the children had eaten breakfast, and the Hubby was supervising the children while I took a quick shower. I got out of the shower, saw that Punkin was in her room getting dressed, so I wandered into the kitchen. The Hubby, not looking up from his newspaper, says "the Boy okay?" At which point I looked down and found Buddy, two feet away from his dada on the other side of the kitchen table, doing this:
My son doing his Incredible Hulk impersonation. Pretty damn funny, if you ask me!
Buddy, who has always been a good sleeper, has been unable to sleep through the night for the past couple of weeks or so. Most nights he wakes up howling some time between midnight and four. My strategy has been to get him back to sleep as quickly as possible by giving him a couple of ounces of milk and sitting with him until he calms down. Easy, but really starting to wear on me (I looked at the calendar and realized that the period of him not sleeping neatly coincided with the period of me being so tired that I haven't been getting any exercise, which makes me even more tired).
Tonight the Hubby got up and spent a good chunk of time talking to the boy, soothing him, stroking his back, without taking him out of his crib. He really wanted me, but allowed himself to be soothed back to sleep by his dada. The Hubby crawled back into bed, we had a few moments of peace, and then realized that the cat was vomiting.
Thinking it fair that we take turns, I got up to deal with the cat. I carefully closed the bedroom door (I should mention that Buddy sleeps in our room) and tiptoed away before making any sound. Not carefully enough.
Half an hour later the Hubby is in his office, I'm in front of my computer, and Buddy is still calling for mama.
On a lighter note, we had an archetypal parenting experience last week. Everyone was up, the children had eaten breakfast, and the Hubby was supervising the children while I took a quick shower. I got out of the shower, saw that Punkin was in her room getting dressed, so I wandered into the kitchen. The Hubby, not looking up from his newspaper, says "the Boy okay?" At which point I looked down and found Buddy, two feet away from his dada on the other side of the kitchen table, doing this:
My son doing his Incredible Hulk impersonation. Pretty damn funny, if you ask me!
2 Comments:
Poor Marie! I hope you find out why buddy isnt' sleeping through the night soon.
We always found that the sleepless periods coincided with some major growth spurt, mental or physical. Watch out!
-Kathy in San Jose
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