the kind of nights I sometimes get to have with my two year old
Ben is in Decatur having a little visit with his family while the kids and I stayed behind in St. Louis. Paul began chemo this week and he has been on our mind constantly. Ben, understandably, wanted to spend some time with him this weekend, but we weren't sure that having all six of us there for an overnight visit was the best timing right now since even yesterday was a chemo day for him.
The kids were pretty tired last night and it was a very easy bedtime for all. Katie was asleep by seven, Drew by 7:30, Luke voluntarily turned out his light around 8:00, and Gracie was in bed reading from 7:30 on. I had a quiet, quiet house to myself- something that doesn't happen very often!
After a couple of shows on the DVR while messing around on my laptop, I crawled into bed and finished a book I've been reading and started another. It was wonderful. I was asleep by 10:30- something else that doesn't happen very often. I was congratulating myself on the great night's sleep I was going to get. I jinxed us.
Katie woke up around 1:00 to tell me she had to potty. We got her taken care of. As is our ritual, she requested a "Mommy-Katie story" to fall back asleep. This is fairly easy in theory because all that I have to do is tell her a story of something that she and I have done together or make up a story about something we could do together. We've been at this for a while, though, and she likes a new story each time. My brain does not work as fast in the middle of the night and I was struggling to think of a new Mommy-Katie scenario. I finally threw together one where we sewed a dress together for her baby doll and it seemed to satisfy her.
I thought she had drifted off, so I did too. She woke me up to tell me she really needed baby Anna but couldn't find her. We located her under the blankets at the end of the bed and I drifted back off.
She woke me up (maybe ten minutes later?) to fearfully ask me what was flying in the room. She would not be convinced that there was not an animal in the room with us. She finally calmed when I agreed to turning a lamp on. I drifted back off.
She woke me up (maybe fifteen minutes later?) by pulling the pillow out from under my head. She said her pillow was too scratchy and she wanted to trade with me please. We traded. We cuddled up together. I rubbed her back. I fell asleep, but she must not have.
I kept drifting in and out of sleep to her trying to kiss on me and rub my hair and shift around trying to get comfortable. I looked at the clock and saw that she had been up for NINETY minutes at this point. I felt bad for her because I realized that my little bouts of sleep that she kept interrupting must have been longer than they felt. Poor thing just could not get sleepy.
Finally I offered her some milk- a habit that we had to work hard to break in the middle of the night- hoping that it would do the trick. She drank it and I told her one more Mommy-Katie story. Eventually we must have both fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Drew was at the side of the bed to wake me up.
I am sure that when Gracie was this age, I worried about occasional nights like this, worrying that we were raising a bad sleeper or enabling bad sleeping habits. Luckily, though, years of parenting have relaxed me a bit. I realize that all of the kids went through a stage of occasionally needing help in the middle of the night, but that none of them needed it after the age of four. Plus, since I also sometimes struggle with sleep in the middle of the night, I sympathize.
So even though it was not the good night of sleep I was anticipating, I am currently drinking coffee to the sounds of four kids giggling and having breakfast (round two for the boys, a normal weekend ritual around here: cereal when they wake up around six and then a real breakfast with everyone else a few hours later). The sun is shining and we have three baseball practices to look forward to this afternoon as well as a trip to the library. I am hoping that if I stay busy enough, I can pretend it was a normal night?
The kids were pretty tired last night and it was a very easy bedtime for all. Katie was asleep by seven, Drew by 7:30, Luke voluntarily turned out his light around 8:00, and Gracie was in bed reading from 7:30 on. I had a quiet, quiet house to myself- something that doesn't happen very often!
After a couple of shows on the DVR while messing around on my laptop, I crawled into bed and finished a book I've been reading and started another. It was wonderful. I was asleep by 10:30- something else that doesn't happen very often. I was congratulating myself on the great night's sleep I was going to get. I jinxed us.
Katie woke up around 1:00 to tell me she had to potty. We got her taken care of. As is our ritual, she requested a "Mommy-Katie story" to fall back asleep. This is fairly easy in theory because all that I have to do is tell her a story of something that she and I have done together or make up a story about something we could do together. We've been at this for a while, though, and she likes a new story each time. My brain does not work as fast in the middle of the night and I was struggling to think of a new Mommy-Katie scenario. I finally threw together one where we sewed a dress together for her baby doll and it seemed to satisfy her.
I thought she had drifted off, so I did too. She woke me up to tell me she really needed baby Anna but couldn't find her. We located her under the blankets at the end of the bed and I drifted back off.
She woke me up (maybe ten minutes later?) to fearfully ask me what was flying in the room. She would not be convinced that there was not an animal in the room with us. She finally calmed when I agreed to turning a lamp on. I drifted back off.
She woke me up (maybe fifteen minutes later?) by pulling the pillow out from under my head. She said her pillow was too scratchy and she wanted to trade with me please. We traded. We cuddled up together. I rubbed her back. I fell asleep, but she must not have.
I kept drifting in and out of sleep to her trying to kiss on me and rub my hair and shift around trying to get comfortable. I looked at the clock and saw that she had been up for NINETY minutes at this point. I felt bad for her because I realized that my little bouts of sleep that she kept interrupting must have been longer than they felt. Poor thing just could not get sleepy.
Finally I offered her some milk- a habit that we had to work hard to break in the middle of the night- hoping that it would do the trick. She drank it and I told her one more Mommy-Katie story. Eventually we must have both fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Drew was at the side of the bed to wake me up.
I am sure that when Gracie was this age, I worried about occasional nights like this, worrying that we were raising a bad sleeper or enabling bad sleeping habits. Luckily, though, years of parenting have relaxed me a bit. I realize that all of the kids went through a stage of occasionally needing help in the middle of the night, but that none of them needed it after the age of four. Plus, since I also sometimes struggle with sleep in the middle of the night, I sympathize.
So even though it was not the good night of sleep I was anticipating, I am currently drinking coffee to the sounds of four kids giggling and having breakfast (round two for the boys, a normal weekend ritual around here: cereal when they wake up around six and then a real breakfast with everyone else a few hours later). The sun is shining and we have three baseball practices to look forward to this afternoon as well as a trip to the library. I am hoping that if I stay busy enough, I can pretend it was a normal night?
Comments