winning the war. aka a really long rambling post about sleep issues.

I've always been afraid of bedtime.  My bedtime.  Henry's bedtime.  I suck at sleeping and I'm always terrified that Henry is also going to suck at sleeping.  Henry, however, has always been really good at sleeping.  I will take credit for that although I'm pretty sure most of the credit goes to him for being a kick ass kid.  Lately he hasn't been great at napping which isn't a huge deal because when he doesn't nap he sleeps 14 hours at night.  When he does nap, it's usually only for an hour and then he sleeps 12 hours at night.  Clearly he's getting enough rest to be happy and healthy.  I always hear my friends' horror stories about bedtime and kids that won't go to sleep and they end up sleeping in their beds with them or the kids get locked in their bedrooms so they can't escape.  NOT JUDGING.  I would totally lock Henry in his room if I had to.  So this is what I worry about which is silly because I can probably count on my fingers the number of times he wouldn't go to sleep and/or had to cry it out.  Most of those times were when we were on vacation and it was one million degrees Fahrenheit and the only way I fell asleep without crying was drinking lots of summer shandy.  And I do mean lots. 

Then came this past weekend.

I don't know exactly what happened because Henry was with his dad.  All I know is that I was getting text messages about Henry not sleeping and staying up crying and only getting 8 hours of sleep.  It was even more awful not being there to help him get some rest than if he had been here. 

And then he came home. 

He was exhausted and desperately needed sleep but he did not want to have anything to do with our normal bedtime routine.  He cried and claimed he needed to cuddle mom-mom, completely knowing I can't say no to cuddle time.  When I finally did put him to bed he cried like I had also put snakes and biting ants and dirt in bed with him.  20 minutes later he passed out and I passed out but not from summer shandy, it was vodka tonic.  It's a good thing he is normally a good sleeper or I might have a drinking problem by now.  When my life was most painful and dramatic, I did not have my normal coping mechanisms of smoking and drinking to turn to because I was almost 7 months pregnant.  Now that I know I can get through what I went through without those two things, I really don't turn to them as much as I used to.  I don't smoke at all  Hahahahahahaaa

Anyway, the second night he was home he was more open to the bedtime routine but still claimed to need cuddle time.  Now he says, "cuddle minute" over and over until I reassure him that we'll cuddle a minute before he goes to bed.  He cried for 7 minutes and then gave up. 

Tonight, the third night, I feel we are getting back to normal and I am winning this sleep war.  We had a busy day and evening so again he was pretty tired.  As we began our bedtime routine, he started his "cuddle minute" chant and I told him we would definitely cuddle and talk about our day.  As we were cuddling he almost fell asleep which I did not want to happen because cuddle minute happens in my bed.  I got him up to say night night to Willie Horton and he had to kiss and hug his many cars and trucks and diggers and when I laid him in bed, he immediately jumped up and started to cry but by the time I closed his door behind me and taken my hand off the door knob, he had stopped.

Winner winner chicken dinner.  Night night sweet boy.

Here's a photo from one of our fun activities today.  It was 55 degrees today which meant lots of melted snow and big puddles to play in!

The first person to make a global warming comment gets punched in the thermometer by me.  Of course I believe global warming is real and is happening and we need to take care of our planet.  At the same time, weather is different than climate.  Duh.  That shit really bugs me.

Out.