It’s like parents are in a race to get their child to sleep for eight-hour stretches as soon as possible. If it is a race, I have lost. I haven’t even crossed the finish line.
Since 2010 when I was pregnant with the first of my three children, I haven’t slept through the night. And I doubt I will for another decade.
My kids fight sleep like it is painful for them to lie down and close their eyes.
First, we have our 7-year-old. At bedtime, she is a master staller.
The lights will be out, the lullaby music playing softly, and she will be regaling you with a recap of her day with so much enthusiasm you feel too guilty to cut her off.
Next is the 2-year-old. His bedtime routine is a rotating list of quirks. Some nights he won’t go to sleep without a basketball in his crib. Other nights it’s an assortment of toy cars.
Sometimes he insists on wearing shoes to bed. He’s prone to wake up throughout the night and cry out for these items if we dare to remove them once he is finally asleep.
Last is the 7-month-old. I had no expectations of her sleeping through the night, but she tricked us all in the beginning.
At 4 months old, she was sleeping for six hours at a time so we put her in her own bedroom. It seemed too good to be true. And it was.
Sleep regression hit us like a freight train. We are back to waking up every three hours at night.
I almost wish we didn’t have a taste of that six-hour sleep stretch, because now I know what I’m missing.
I’m not alone in my sleep deprivation. There is an entire tribe of us moms out there with dark circles under our eyes and extra large coffees in our hands.
Our kids somehow function on barely any sleep, so we learn to as well.