A few weeks ago my in-laws took my toddler for the night so my husband and I could celebrate our anniversary. The following day we drove up to my parents to bid farewell to my two younger brothers; one off to law school in Oregon, and the other a year in Australia. We rounded out the weekend with a family party at my in-laws that Sunday. It was quite the busy weekend.
Needless to say, our toddler was absolutely exhausted by the time Sunday night rolled around. A night with the grandparents and no naps will do that to you when you’re 2.
You may think that such a tired 2-year-old would sleep like a “baby,” but if you are a parent, then I’m sure you are well-aware that a lack of sleep begets a lack of sleep. So, instead of peacefully drifting off to dreamland, he fought it with a massive amount of toddler adrenaline pumping through his little veins. By the time he waved the white flag and shut his eyes, we were exhausted ourselves, and naively hopeful for a later wake-up time the next morning.
We were wrong, so wrong.
Stage 1: Denial
You are dead asleep, completely at peace and blissfully unaware of the toddler drama that is about to unfold. Then, a faint wail reaches your ear, suddenly waking you from your slumber. As the crying intensifies, you open your eyes, feeling confused and blind in the darkness. Is that him? No! What time is it? He can’t possibly be up.
You glue your eyes shut, willing the increasingly ear-splitting sounds coming from your toddler’s room to stop. I’m sure it’s just a bad dream. He’ll stop. I’ll just lay here, and he’ll stop.
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he only gets louder. He’s now calling your name. Your husband stirs, “Is that him?” Don’t respond. If you play your cards right, he’ll go get him and you can continue to rest undisturbed. You bury your face deeper into your pillow as your doesn’t-need-as-much-sleep-as-you-do husband begrudgingly gets up.
You can’t help but let a slight smile escape while thinking to yourself, I married the right man.
Stage 2: Anger
You snuggle into the warm covers and try to fall back asleep, but, unfortunately, the entire conversation between father and son reaches your hyper-sensitive ears. “What’s wrong?” “Mommy!” “Do you want me to sing to you?” “No, Mommy!” “Do you want a glass of water?” “No! Mommy!” You know all too well where this is headed. You can feel your frustration boil up. The entire day all this boy wants is his daddy, but the moment poor, mommy just wants to sleep, that’s when he wants her! Ahh!
Your husband enters the room, “He wants you.” You let your anger and disappointment show as much as you can in a pitch black room by aggressively flinging the comforter off while letting out an excessively loud sigh, “uhhhh!”
Stage 3: Bargaining
You flop yourself out of the bed, taking a moment to compose yourself before stumbling into your toddler’s room. You find him there, standing up in his crib. At least he’s contained, we’re keeping him in a crib until high school. He points to the chair next to his crib and demands, “song!” The bargaining begins. “Okay, one song, then you must go back to sleep.” You croak out the A, B, C’s (it’s the shortest) wondering, what about my raspy, chain-smoker, middle-of-the-night voice is so appealing to this boy? After you finish, you get up to leave and say goodnight before you are interrupted—“Water!” “Okay, I’ll get you a little water, but you must go to sleep then.” Before you know it, you find yourself on a never-ending carousel of more drinks, more kisses, more hugs, more songs.
Stage 4: Depression
I will never sleep again. I am destined to stand here in this room for 4 more hours until the sun rises, pleading with a tiny person to just go to sleep. You slump down into the chair next to your son’s crib, rest your head on the railing, tears starting to form in your eyes. You look over at your toddler; he has officially gone insane, laughing, jumping up and down. He has not a care in the world. He can sleep whenever he wants. You mourn the loss of those nighttime hours that you’ll never get back. You blink away the tears as you slowly count them aloud to yourself.
Stage 5: Acceptance
You wipe the tears away and pick your toddler up out of his crib. He immediately rests his somehow-still-adorable, little head on your shoulder as you march back into your room. You place him in your bed and lay down next to him. “You can sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed for the rest of the night, but you have to sleep nicely.” You grin to yourself. I’m seriously losing it. What does sleep nicely even mean? You snuggle in next to your precious toddler and think, well, for just one night this is really nice.
It’s not until you are awoken again around 4:30 a.m. from a tiny, yet shockingly powerful foot to the face, that you realize what you meant when you said, “sleep nicely.”
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