So the aftermath of BlogHer is this: we have lost all progress we had made on having Boy Detective sleep more than 2 hours at a time at night.
Whenever I watch a vampire movie, I sit in my chair watching the sun’s rays move and thinking “Get inside get inside get inside GET INSIDE GET INSIDE.” I’m totally freaked out by the approach of non-safety, the transition from “it’s ok” to “it’s really, really not ok.”
Nighttime here is now really, really not ok, and there’s no inside. I stay up late because I’m afraid to go to bed and start the process of being repeatedly jolted out of REM sleep again. Last night he went to sleep at 8:30, and woke up at 10:15, midnight, 1:50, 2:30, and then twice more between 3:00 and 7:00 but honestly my mental record-keeping got a little hazy.
I thought he was cold, so I started putting pants on him. I know he’s cutting his fourth tooth, so I’m giving him Tylenol before bed. And four hours later. And four hours later.
While we were in San Francisco, it was so bad that I ended up with him sleeping next to me in bed, between my body and a huge pile of pillows, and I just hoped that he wouldn’t suddenly develop the ability to wake up quietly and move around stealthily. I was just too tired to get up out of the bed anymore and retrieve him from the crib, rock him, put him back down, go back to bed, only to have him start crying again five minutes later.
I also spent a lot of time walking around with him in the lobby of the swanky hotel in my ladybug pajamas. The night staff at the Westin St. Francis are really nice, by the way.
Sleeping next to me didn’t help Boy Detective sleep any better, and sometimes he wouldn’t even want to nurse when he woke up. I actually had to sit up and rock him and then lie back down with him wrapped in my arms, which meant I couldn’t sleep. So I think we’ve established that it’s not lack of company and it’s not hunger waking him up and keeping him awake.
I told myself a while ago that I was going to stop mindfucking this, because I can come up with 5.2 million equally plausible explanations for why it’s happening and none of them seem to do me any good in ameliorating the situation.
But it’s gotten fucking scary. Tuesday C-Man had to go into work late because I couldn’t get up. Thursday I started having dizziness attacks whenever I would sit up or stand up, and by 6:00 when Boy Detective woke up for the day I fed him and then called C-Man to come get him because I couldn’t safely carry him to the changing table. I have no idea why I’m functional today.
So WTF Boy Detective? What’s your drama? Is there a master plan here? A list of demands? I don’t think you’re old enough to be manipulating me, especially because when you wake up you sound really upset – not just mad, not just “hey, are you forgetting me?” So what’s going on?
Clue Mama in before she drops dead, please. Even Dad pinch-hitting will not be sufficient to keep the wheels on our bus if you keep this up.