Sleep is one of those things that I can't do without. Apparently this is not something that my son and I hold in common. Yesterday marked the fourth day following the fourth night that little Oliver was awake for a wide swath of time. This happens periodically and I've grown almost used to having disrupted sleep. Anyway, if it isn't Oliver, it's Sam. But on the fourth night I was really feeling as though things got out of hand. Oliver was slow to fall asleep even after we had taken special effort to wear him out with lots of physical activity throughout the day. Finally, around 10pm the sounds coming from his darkened room quieted and finally stopped and I breathed a sigh of relief, sure that he would sleep through. I was surprised then when he later climbed into my bed and I looked over at the clock to see that it was only 12:30. And my surprise grew to chagrin which turned into anger and despair when the hours gradually took us closer to dawn. At 4:30 I woke Nik and asked him to please drive Oliver around, hoping that would lull him to sleep. Unfortunately by this hour I was so upset that I could not fall asleep even without my tossing, turning, and loudly vocal little guy next to me. I was in some kind of strange, between sleep and alert stage when Oliver, fully awake, climbed back into bed with me at 6:15. At 6:30 he finally drifted off to sleep.
I went to work and waited until 8:40, at which time I called his pediatrician's office and asked to speak to a nurse. After being on hold for a few minutes she came on the line and asked what the problem was. Unable to hold back, I started to sob into the phone. I need help I told her. I need for my son to sleep, I said. I need to sleep. So that set some things in motion. I took Oliver in for a quick check up and our pediatrician did some research, called some experts, and then recommended Melatonin. And benedryl for emergencies.
I feel like we are all coming off of a four-day bender. My head certainly feels like I've got some kind of hang-over. And I'm carrying around a bucket-full of remorse; my recovery is as much about the anger and despair as it is the lack of sleep.
In other news from our little green house:
Sammy is now saying "Mama" and has learned how to wrinkle up his nose, which he does when something he has just done -- like thowing a partly-mauled banana from his high chair half-way across the room -- pleases him immensely.
I have been invited to sit on the special education advisory panel for our city, which I happily accepted.
Lindsey, our much-loved in-home therapist, gives me a count-down every day for vacation. This morning it was: "Twelve more days until Switzerland!" She is ridiculously excited and it reminds me of how I felt the first time I went to Europe when I was her age. Actually, come to think of it: I am ridiculously excited even now. We haven't had a vacation in two years!!
When I woke up this morning and realized that I had slept completely through the night -- and so had Oliver!! -- I felt like celebrating and so I had a big bowl of ice cream for breakfast with my morning coffee.
So I guess that's all the news that wasn't, as they say, and I'll wish you, and me, and Oliver, a very good night of sleep and happy dreams for all of us.
