Tired and Cranky

Week 2, Day 1 of transitioning the children into sharing a room.  As it turns out, misery does love company.

I don't know what else to say about the topic.  We are all miserable.  And tired.  But Timm and I seem to be the only ones willing/able to doze off at the drop of a hat.

I think my worst fear is that Iris, who has had the most awesome sleep habits since day one, will become negatively affected by Asher's sleeplessness.  Seriously, every transition Iris has had to make (from our room to her own room; from carseat to crib; from apartment to house; from crib to toddler bed) she has taken like a champ and just rolled with the punches.  (I don't mean to imply that there were never nights we struggled through- she would teethe, get sick, and have her moments like any baby.  But when I look back on her sleep history as a whole, Timm and I were on easy street.  And we didn't even know/appreciate it at the time!)  I am afraid that this transition might be the one to break her- having to deal with the stress of a crying baby going to bed every night and mommy in and out of the room multiple times, then the rude awakening to a crying baby and mommy in and out multiple times again throughout the wee hours. 

I can't stand the thought of leaving him to cry it out mostly just because I can't stand the thought of Iris having to be in there with him while he does.

But even worse, I find myself and Asher falling back into the routine of having to be nursed/rocked into complete deep sleep before I can lay him down.  He hasn't needed that since he was 6 months old.  The only reason I even moved them into the same room is because I thought we were finally over that hump.  He had finally started looking forward to naptime/bedtime, having about five minutes of "milks" and laying down awake, quiet and happy to doze off on his own.  It took 8 months to get to that point.  And now we are back to square one.  Won't nap, won't go down easy at bedtime, won't sleep through the night.

Something about sleep deprivation brings out some need in me to quantify things.  What time has he been waking up?  How many consecutive hours has he slept?  How many hours has he been awake?  How many hours have I been awake?  How many consecutive hours have I slept?

And, of course, being awake in the middle of the night makes me think about weird things.  I thought about stuff I could write in my blog, but I have forgotten all of it.  I thought about the study we are doing at church, "Live Like You are Dying".  If I were to die in 30 days, it would be nice to be able to sit back and enjoy rocking my baby at 4am instead of sleeping.  But it would be even nicer to be fully awake during the day to be able to enjoy the time with the rest of the family, too, instead of feeling like I am at times hanging on by only a thin thread of caffeine.

I guess that is the thing about motherhood.  You don't get the chance to suffer in your sleep-deprivation, you just pump yourself with caffeine and sunshine and try to make every day wonderful for your children and family.  And you can't let the fact that you don't get more than 4 1/2 hours of sleep before duty calls make you frustrated and irritable; instead you just sit back in the rocking chair and listen to your baby breathe and thank God for bringing your baby peace and appreciate the fact that he is still small enough to want to be rocked and nursed and with you 100% of the time.  I did have a glimmer of that last night. 

In a perfect world, I would love for that to be me all the time. 

Instead, I'm tired and cranky and I want my baby to get some sleep on his own, so the rest of the family can get some sleep too.