One of my biggest ongoing disagreements with my husband is because of our differing needs for sleep. I am a big fan, but can get by with like 7 hours consistently. He LOVES sleep. Needs like 10 hours. Naps whenever he can. I maintain that naps are for babies and small children and that grownups SUCK IT UP.
Ahem. Of course, now I find myself in the first trimester of pregnancy and I AM TIRED. I haven't watched a non-DVR'ed Daily Show in more than a month. Most days find me wanting a little Vitamin N around Maggie's naptime. In other words, we have completely switched roles --it's now common for Paul to come to bed and find me out cold, the blankets wrapped around me like a cocoon.
Which has made the last 10 days or so all the more difficult. Because my beautiful daughter? Has decided sleep is the enemy.
For what feels like the last month, but is probably less (my mind is a blur) she wakes up every four hours or so during the night, screaming and sobbing and refusing to go back to sleep unless one of us lays down on the cold hardwood next to her. We recently discovered her top molars are breaking through. I hate those teeth --this happened last time as well, when the bottom two came in.
Most nights, it's me that does the Maggie shift--Paul goes in to her (which for my sleep loving husband is a gift akin to precious rubies) and she screams and screams at him that NO Daddy, NO. STOP. NO. MOMMY!!!! Now during the day Daddy is her bestest friend ever and I am far and away the least fun parent, but at night? All about the (exhausted, at the end of her rope, sore) Mommy.
And naps? Forget it. They've been ranging between an hour or so to nothing. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes I go downstairs and scream into a pillow and slam a door before I calm down and retrieve her.
Here's ne day I find funny: She's in the crib, I am laying on her floor and pass out COLD, I am so exhausted. I awaken to a stuffed animal bouncing gently off my face. Then another, as she gently whispers "here ya go." Apparently she thought I needed company. I steeled myself not to laugh and opened my eyes, only to see sparkling blue eyes and a dimpled little face smiling down at me, her blanket poised to go over next.
The other night was the worst--both Maggie and I stricken with insomnia, unable to sleep at all from 3:30 to shortly before wakeup time at 7. I spent most of yesterday feeling like I had the flu. And? I am not a very good mother when I am this tired. I am short tempered, uncreative, slack. More TV? Sure. Chicken nuggets for lunch? Sure. Don't want to go outside and play?Fine. Her normal two-year old sass feels like more than can be borne, and her crankiness from lack of sleep makes the days very very long.
But joy comes in the morning. Today's a new day. It's a beautiful, sunny, crisp 75 degrees, my darling is in school, and she SLEPT. Until 5:30 this morning, when we brought her into bed with us. She nestled against me and slept more, until 7. She's been remarkably good natured, even without anything resembling adequate rest, but this morning she is the curious, funny, happy kid I remember. I have a reasonable-length fuse again, and so does she. It's glorious. I don't know if the teeth are finally through, or if it's the Orajel and Children's Tylenol she got last night, or if the Sleep Gods finally decided to give us a break, but it's wonderful.
Now I just pray she takes a nap.