Soooo … don’t judge, but for the past couple of weeks Blair has been spending about half of the night in our bed. No, that’s not a typo. I don’t mean half of the nights in a week. I mean half of each night. Pretty much every night.
She has always been a bedtime-protester, but it seems to get worse after I am either out of town or not there when she wakes up. Like, say, if she wakes up and her Susu is here because I have to go have my appendix removed. It always leads to a few weeks of readjustment while she basically cries for me nonstop (I mean, I’m kind of a big deal).
So for the past three-plus weeks, she has been waking up WAY too early from her naps, and also at some point in the middle of the night (like, around 2:00 am). And she doesn’t just mill around in bed and wait for us to come get her.
She screams. And by screams, I mean … I can’t even describe it. I think Derrick described the sound that she makes best. Have you ever seen ‘Throw Mama from the Train?’ Because that’s EXACTLY what she sounds (and maybe even looks a little like her. Don’t tell her I said that. I’ll deny it.). And the word she is screaming is “MAAAAAMMMMMMAAAAAA!!!!!” in a deep, raspy, loud voice.
Imagine a much cuter, yet JUST as angry version of this face.
We have been at our wits’ end (wit ends? wits ends?). We were frustrated beyond belief. We were freaking exhausted. We were also worried that the decibel level of the screams would wake up Paige … and possibly cause our epileptic dog to have a seizure.
So every time we heard the start of the screaming, Derrick would get our of bed to handle it (me going into the room only makes it MUCH worse). And, by “handle it,” I mean that he would pick her up out of bed, bring her into our room, toss her on top of me, and then fall asleep before his head hits the pillow. And she basically spends the rest of the night/morning creepily staring at me while I pretend to be asleep. And patting my face every few minutes while “whispering” “mama…mama…mama”.
And then, about 30 minutes before Paige wakes up, Blair falls into a deep, snoring sleep beside me. But she makes sure I don’t make the error of also falling asleep by jerking her arms every few minutes and hitting me in the nose, eye, etc.
Did I mention this happens every night? I’m super well-rested and full of energy.
So, last night, I decided to take matters into my own hands. The screaming started at 2:15 am, and I hopped out of bed and walked into her room. Sure enough, she was standing up screaming my name (Mama, not Bis, obviously). I calmly walked up to her, bent over to her eye-level, and put my hands on her shoulders. (Mind you, I was also laughing inside at how ridiculous this was, sure that she would scratch my eyes out if I got too close to her).
“Blair,” I said quietly, “you need to go nigh-nigh. Please. You need to lie down, and go to sleep. Here, in your bed. NOT in Mommy’s bed. Okay? I love you, and I will see you in the morning. Mommy loves you. Nigh nigh.”
She lay back down. I turned around and walked out of her room, waiting for the screams.
And … silence. What. The. Hell? (And, ‘hell’ was not my first choice of words here … but, c’mon. My parents read this blog.)
Derrick sat up and asked me what happened. I explained my technique, and we both laughed. Out loud. At how ridiculous the situation was.
At 6:15 am, the screaming happened again, but this time for “DAAAAAADDDDDDAAAAAA!” D repeated my technique, and came back to bed.
Are you freaking kidding me? Three-and-a-half FREAKING weeks of horrible sleep, stifling angry feelings towards my toddler, and yelling much more during the day than usual. And seriously?
Apparently we just needed to say please.