When we made plans to watch fireworks with some of Jonathan’s co-workers on Thursday evening, I knew it would be a late night for the kids, so we made sure they each had naps that afternoon and committed to leave as soon as the display ended. We were all set for the children to fall asleep in the van, and the cheesedoodle did exactly that, but the mackerdoodle stayed awake, questioning my chosen route home, asking her daddy (who was trying to study Hebrew words) theological questions, and generally talking continuously despite our admonition to try to be quiet, close her eyes and go to sleep.
We arrived home before 10 and she was in bed by 10 or shortly after. When I went to bed around 11 she was still awake.
She wanted more light.
She wanted less light.
She wanted more covers.
She wanted less covers.
She claimed her legs hurt.
She claimed her said there was nothing wrong with her legs.
She turned and rolled and tossed and kicked.
She talked and sang and in the end she cried.
When I wasn’t tending to the snickerdoodle (who was adjusting to her first night’s sleep without a harness!) I tried to lie beside her, and comfort her and calm her down, but to no avail. In fact it seemed sometimes like my presence made her more restless, so around 2:30 I climbed into my bed and dozed a little between her outbursts and questions. At some point she dozed off for a few minutes and I thought we were home free until she woke me screaming, “I just want to go home and sleep in my OWN BED!”
It took me twenty minutes to convince her that she was at home in her own bed, and that was when I got out the Benadryl. One dose at 3:30 and she was asleep by four. She woke up this morning at eight.
I have NO IDEA hat caused this strange episode, but the real irony is that yesterday I started work on a post about how much sleep a child needs compared with what I think a lot of mothers expect their children to get. Citing this chart on Web MD, I started the post with “I thought my children weren’t good sleepers, but I may be wrong.”
I learned my lesson.
So we’re all operating on a very small amount of sleep today. If you’re talking to me and it feels like I’m on a 10 second delay, it’s just my brain trying to clear the fog of lack of sleep before I can respond to you. Sorry about that.
We may all just go to sleep at 6:30 tonight. Except poor Jonathan. He’s working until close.