undefined
undefined
I feel like a lab rat that has been poked and prodded and sleep deprived and food deprived so that scientists can learn what NOT to do to a lab rat.
My lovely little daughter, Liberty, who is not yet two has been sleeping just fine in her big girl bed for over a month now. But this week, she decided the big girl bed is not for her. She gave it a fair shot, and that bed just doesn't work out. Instead, she prefers to throw her body violently against the closed bedroom door while screaming as though a vital organ were dangling from her abdomen. Because, you know, it is so much more pleasant to spend your nights and evenings practicing to be in a horror movie than it is to loll lazily against fresh-smelling sheets while a gentle fan-created breeze blows over you.
Since Monday, I have tried everything imaginable to get her to go back to bed, to stay in bed, to fall asleep, to just be quiet, but NOTHING works. On Wednesday, I slept a total of three hours, and on Thursday, I had glimpses of sleep in ten minute stretches at a time until 5:30 in the morning when Jeremy took over. I do now know what he did, but after all the screaming I had endured over the past four nights, the silence from her room was eerie enough to prevent me from sleeping. There is nothing more frustrating than NOT sleeping at 5:30 in the morning when you haven't gotten any sleep to speak of during the previous four nights.
On top of my sleep deprivation, the new gestational diabetes diet is wreaking havoc on my normally sweet and wonderful personality. (See my halo?) Who knew that carbs were in so many foods? Who knew that carb withdrawal could create homicidal tendencies in a person? Who knew that carb withdrawal + sleep deprivation could create a mental imbalance that prevents the curbing of those homicidal tendencies?
Huh. They say you learn something new everyday. I'm just getting my quota of knowledge, I guess.
My lovely little daughter, Liberty, who is not yet two has been sleeping just fine in her big girl bed for over a month now. But this week, she decided the big girl bed is not for her. She gave it a fair shot, and that bed just doesn't work out. Instead, she prefers to throw her body violently against the closed bedroom door while screaming as though a vital organ were dangling from her abdomen. Because, you know, it is so much more pleasant to spend your nights and evenings practicing to be in a horror movie than it is to loll lazily against fresh-smelling sheets while a gentle fan-created breeze blows over you.
Since Monday, I have tried everything imaginable to get her to go back to bed, to stay in bed, to fall asleep, to just be quiet, but NOTHING works. On Wednesday, I slept a total of three hours, and on Thursday, I had glimpses of sleep in ten minute stretches at a time until 5:30 in the morning when Jeremy took over. I do now know what he did, but after all the screaming I had endured over the past four nights, the silence from her room was eerie enough to prevent me from sleeping. There is nothing more frustrating than NOT sleeping at 5:30 in the morning when you haven't gotten any sleep to speak of during the previous four nights.
On top of my sleep deprivation, the new gestational diabetes diet is wreaking havoc on my normally sweet and wonderful personality. (See my halo?) Who knew that carbs were in so many foods? Who knew that carb withdrawal could create homicidal tendencies in a person? Who knew that carb withdrawal + sleep deprivation could create a mental imbalance that prevents the curbing of those homicidal tendencies?
Huh. They say you learn something new everyday. I'm just getting my quota of knowledge, I guess.
So what was it that Jeremy did to stop her crying?
He cuddled up with her, and they fell asleep together. Of course, when *I* cuddled up with her, she thought it was "Jump on Mommy" time.