Regression

I had a flashback tonight to a time long ago, in a place far far away. I remembered the days, well nights actually, when we would put Little Man to bed and settle in for some tv time before bed. It never lasted long. He'd cry for a lost paci or because he was stuffed up and couldn't breathe through his nose (which caused him to lose his paci). We'd look at each other. Who's turn is it? One of us would sit on the edge of the couch. Decide he wasn't going to soothe himself and start for the stairs. Stop. Start up again when the crying started again. Get to the second flight of stairs. Stop. Wait. Cry. Go half way up. Stop. Wait. Go all the way up.

I remember wishing for the time when these moments ended. Wishing for the time when this child would sleep through the night. When we could watch a half hour comedy in its time slot rather than recording it and having it take 2 hours to get through.

Tonight I realized we are still wishing and waiting. Tonight I realized that yet again I was lied to. Sleeping through the night is an elusive, never-to-be-achieved goal.

And then I realized I was told one thing that wasn't a lie. The one thing that used to piss me off to no end. The one thing those without kids would say when they found out I was pregnant - Get all the sleep you can now because you won't sleep after the baby is here (I will admit to having said it once or twice myself when I was one of those "without kids" - don't we all?).

Wow - the non-parents won out. There's one stereotype smashed.

It has taken me over an hour to type something that should have taken 10 minutes and only because John made some trips upstairs as well. Little Man is now in our room chugging his warm cup of milk. Probably stealing my pillow. Stuffed up and wide awake. Night # 2 of no sleep ahead of me. In a row I should specify.

I've learned not to think beyond the current night. I've learned not to think this will be the last night and he'll go back to better albeit far from perfect sleep habits. I've learned to stop wishing for sleepful nights. They don't exist. I'm at the point where I am beginning to think they never did; were nothing but a figment of my imagination.

I'll go to bed in a few minutes and if he does sleep at all, he will toss and turn smashing my nose, my forhead, my rib cage and any other body part he deems fit. If he doesn't sleep, he will sit up, get right in my face and yell MOMMY until I talk to him.

I could take the cheating route. I could sneak upstairs and crawl into bed in the guest bedroom. I wouldn't even feel guilty since John slept on the couch last night leaving me to enjoy the head, nose, neck, rib cage smashing fest all by myself. But I still wouldn't sleep well. I need my pillow. I can't sleep without it. Even if I did wait to see if the little guy passed out, its not like I could sneak in and snag it. He'll pass out on it like it is his own personal mattress.

Judging by the sounds coming over the monitor - he's carrying on quite the conversation with daddy right now. I wonder if daddy is awake. The man amazes me. He can sleep just about anywhere at any time. His child could be sitting on his chest chattering away and he will still manage to doze off. Must be the extra X chromosome I carry. Its threaded throughout that chromosome that if someone is talking to you, even at 2 AM, you must pay attention and converse with them.

I guess where I "sleep" tonight will be decided on what I find when I walk upstairs. Anyone know a good masseuse? What about a masseuse and chiropractor in the same practice? Think I may need both.