When I was pregnant with Lillian and friends would tell me about the sleep regressions kids go through, I would always silently guffaw at the notion. That’s silly, I’d think, they can’t regress. They’re just babies. How far can they actually regress? Besides, I’ve heard they don’t really sleep in the first year anyhow.
Now that I’ve managed to keep two babies alive and into toddlerhood, I can tell you that sleep regressions are real. There’s just so many things they’re doing and learning and thinking and dreaming. I liken it to when I start a new book or project and I’m just so excited that I can barely sleep. Same goes for babies–except they are excited about EVERYTHING.
So I’ve gone through sleep regression with my kids and we’re all still alive.
Alive, but broken.
My two-year-old is especially broken. Her sleep is, anyway.
For the last two weeks she has opted not to sleep like a normal human being. She’s tired–exhausted, really–but she won’t go to bed at night. She’ll wait until Levi falls asleep, softly knock on her bedroom door, and while sleepily rubbing her eyes say, “Mom, me awake.”
Well, yes, you are, but you really shouldn’t be.
This went on for hours the other night. I think it took her until 10 p.m. to finally stay in bed.
And how did I keep her in bed?
I caved and let her sleep in my bed.
And the next night, too.
And… well… she’s been spending a lot of time in my bed. Naps, too. It’s ridiculous.
What’s even more ridiculous is the time she doesn’t spend in bed. Like the other morning when she woke up at 4:30 in the morning. I woke up to her tossing and toning and I asked her if she was awake. “Me awake, Mom. Me play.” Um…
And then her nap was only an hour. One hour. She had been awake since 4:30 and she napped for an hour.
My daughter is broken and taking up my bed and not sleeping nearly enough.
I have no answers. I just wanted to get that off my chest. I feel better now. Thank you.