Dazed and confused is pretty much how I feel right now after yet another night of sleep training. I can’t see the finish line at this point and I’m desperate (desperate!!!) for a solid night’s sleep. Hell, I’d take even 4 hours of consecutive snooze-time and be grateful for it. I still don’t think I’ve gotten more than 3 hours of back to back sleep since March.
Last night I once again slept in a toddler’s bed with my body curled up like a question mark. The bed is 63 inches long. I’m not. Sam slept on a single mattress on the floor and while I love the man, his recent neck injury has him snoring like a warthog. Seriously, if I had a gun I’d shoot him and make a warthog dinner. There’s no differentiating between the two come 3am.
Baby did great at the beginning of the night after his bedtime of 6pm. He woke up at 10pm, fussed for about an hour, and then went back to sleep. I got up at midnight and gave him a dream feed (didn’t work that well) and congratulated myself on being on top of the ball.
And that is when the crap storm started. From 2am to 4am Baby was awake and as angry as a rattlesnake. And then after a brief hour’s respite, he was up again at 5am, furious that we would dare to keep him in the crib. I think he had a meeting to go to, a flight to catch, a bank to rob. I don’t know exactly, but whatever it was he was missing, he was pissed about it and not shy in letting me know.
If you’re reading this, I’m sorry that we are trying to sleep train you. I am scared of you and beg your forgiveness.
That being said, we’re rounding second here and coming up on night three.
Please sleep a little more tonight. Please?