Why don’t I make sleepy children?
Why don’t I make sleepy children?
It is 11: 36pm and I just put Julianna down. I’m actually patting myself on the back right now, because I managed to beat her usual midnight bedtime by a whopping 24 minutes (I’ve got to hold tight to the small victories). My wee one has decided that her old 8pm bedtime was just the right time for a power nap, and wakes up after 20 minutes or so. I normally try to nurse her back to sleep for anywhere from five minutes to a half hour or more. She usually goes along with me for just long enough that I get my hopes up. As soon as my guard is down, she pops up, points at the crack of light visible beneath the bedroom door and says “do-a, do-a” in her perkiest voice. Eventually I admit defeat and open the do-a to let her rejoin the social activities going on downstairs.
Bella fell asleep about twenty minutes before Julianna, but only after two hours of yelling, threats, clothing changes, and drink and food requests. She thinks I’m the meanest person alive, I think she’s out to steal my last remaining shred of sanity. She was eventually silenced by the fact that I informed her that if she yelled out one more time I was turning the hall light off (gasp, the hall light – I AM mean). Lets not talk about my parenting ideals, they went out the window a few weeks ago.
Since alone time is far more important to my sanity than sleep, I will now stay up until 1 or 2am and enjoying the fact that I can finally, finally hear myself think. I also spend this time hoping against hope that Julianna will sleep at least an hour before waking to demand my services once more. Although historically speaking I am almost guaranteed disappointment, I remain ever optimistic.
At least they are sleeping in until 10am. If they were waking at 6am I’d likely loose it. I keep telling myself I need to get us all out of bed earlier and try to set their body clocks back – but I just don’t seem to have the will power necessary to actually do it.
My mother thinks this is all rather amusing. She repeatedly reminds me that I didn’t go to sleep before midnight until I was twelve (surely she exaggerates?). She smiles a smug smile (I think I even heard her cackle once) and makes statements that clearly communicate she feels this is poetic justice - some sort of sleep karma at work. This confirms my suspicion that raising myself and my three siblings made her a touch mean-spirited.
Presumably my girls are (after almost a month?) still on Phoenix time. The four-hour time difference means Jules is sleeping from 8pm to 6am. Although I don’t believe that is really enough sleep for my almost-one-year-old – it is at least within reason. My mother (mean-spirited and pessimistic) predicts they will adjust to Atlantic time a few days before we return to Arizona.
As for me, they can get me down – but they can’t break my spirit. I’ll just sit here and dream about the day when their children will do the same thing to them. Then it will be my turn for a mean-spirited cackle at their expense. Universal sleep karma will not be denied.
