The inevitable drop

Just as there are easy days, there are days when you spiral and can think of nothing but survival until the little beast is put to bed.

Historically, Baxter has been a godsend on the sleep front. Something I don’t boast too much about for fear of offending some ears. It’s not a competition. Routined since the four-month regression (Just one of the million somethings to file under the “Why the hell did nobody tell me about this?!” category.), he went from two naps to one several-hour nap just beyond his first birthday.

Over Easter we bought Baxter his first big boy bed with no hurry of getting him into it. It was to be a feature in his bedroom until he was ready, hoping in time he would take to it over a long adjustment period. Then we could hand over Bax’s beloved cot to his new sibling. Once again, Bax was quick to jump on the bandwagon, excitedly asking to sleep in “Upsy Daisy’s bed” within the first few days; slightly spitting in the eye of his cot. After several books were ingested, and the ever faithful “Goodnight Moon” uttered its last lines, he’d turn his head on his yeti pillow, shove bunny bun’s ear in his mouth, and set sail to the land of nod. Until now we’ve been pretty lucky.

Fast forward to two weeks ago and that little guy started to think bed time was all a game. Books read, sleeping bag on, he’d ask us to sit in the hall on the steps (the “three twos” as he calls them) so that he knew we’d be in the vicinity. Then he’d shuffle into the hallway quickly to giggle at us, as if we too would think it was funny. “Back to bed little man” we’d say, picking him up and bringing him back to bed. Cool-headed frustration building as we did this time and time again, until the minutes turned to hours. “Go To Bed!!!!” screaming in our heads, but never aloud. His 6pm bed time turning to 11pm as we’d hear giggles coming from behind a closed door.

After a couple weeks of this, I sensed a pattern. Routined nap times seemed to lengthen into hours approaching bed time. Something that never seemed to phase Bax, but now for some reason it does. Even a morning cat nap would affect the night routine. So now we’re back to starting from scratch. (Again, whyyyyy don’t they tell you about this?) It’s time to drop those day time naps. 

Entertaining from 7am to 6pm, a child who is so deliriously tired by 11am; he reaches stages of cuckoo to psycho in two seconds. I guess this is what they call the terrible twos. Toss in being heavily pregnant, and well, life seems a bit overwhelming at times. (Step right on in and please stay your welcome, telly sitter. Shrek for the millionth time anyone?)

We’re a couple days into trialling a full day of no sleep, and let me tell you for all the tantrums and tears (from us both) it is worth it. That little guy has his head on the yeti pillow and is back to being passed out within minutes after his bath. Once again, sleeping entirely through the night. Who knows if it’ll remain this way or when the next regression will hit, but for now I’m happy that I can sit here under a dim light, listening to Mac DeMarco, knowing that there’s a tamed little beastie snoozing cozily, listening to Coldplay in the room next to me.

I'm curious to know how ya'll find sleep routines/or lack there of with your kiddos. Do they nap at all? Do they sleep through the night? What gets you through? Remember, whatever ya'll are going through, we're in this together.x