Some nights, as a parent, you wonder:
“How will I ever be able to get up in the morning?”
“How am I possibly going to function?”
“Is this child ever going to sleep through the night????”
Last night was one of those nights.
In fact, for the last couple of months, almost every night has been one of those nights.
After putting the Little Guy to sleep THREE times, I gave in and took him into my daughter’s bed with me. (She was at her dad’s).
In an act of uncharacteristic generosity,
I had promised my husband he wouldn’t have to get up with the Little Guy unless I was absolutely desperate; he’s getting over a sinus infection, and unlike myself, has a job to show up to in the morning. (My husband, not the Little Guy. The Little Guy’s job consists of running around the house half-naked peeing on things, and that doesn’t require a full-night’s sleep to be performed competently.)
“Sleeping” with the Little Guy involves a lot of flinging, which is exactly why we avoid sleeping with him in our bed.
If you slept with him, this is what you would experience:
He will fling his fist out, not just once, but at least twice, and often three times, and it will hit you squarely in both of your eyes, usually right as you were finally about to fall asleep;
He will sit up in bed and fling his head back and hit you squarely in the nose. This will happen at least once. Sometimes, you will get a bloody nose. Sometimes, you will actually see stars.
He will position himself horizontally across the bed, and fling all parts of his body out simultaneously, and kick you in the neck at the same time he head-butts your husband. He’s coordinated that way.
He will try to use your head as a pillow. This usually happens about four times. Your head is not meant to be a pillow. Both his head and your head are HARD.
In between all this flinging, he will plaintively request to “eesh.”
“Eesh” means nurse. He will try to eesh all night long. You will not be able to sleep through it because he has a weird latch. You will resent it, because, he is after all, two years old, and that’s long enough to eesh, and long enough to be beaten up in the night, and long enough to be sleep-deprived.
That was last night.
My husband said he slept really great!