The Sleep Project

The last few weeks have been a bit of a blur with my predominant project (its total commitment akin to how the moon can block out the sun): the transition of Em from her crib into a toddler bed.   Along with the big time requisite sleep regression (her) has come the inherent sleep deprivation (me) from teaching her how to make this thrilling and anxious transition that I hear can go on for weeks.  Of all her sleep regressions, this one feels the most like those first few weeks of having an every-two-hours-at-the-boob newborn in the house. And similarly, I try to sleep when she sleeps and am otherwise an insomniac, a fog-headed mad woman from the anxiety that comes after someone (child, cat, hubby, or the 1.2 million dogs now living in our neighborhood) wakes me up after it has taken me sometimes hours to fall asleep.  No complaining here, except for the dog numbers which have now reached 2.08 million in the last minute. The reality is: ridiculously light sleeper + cannot function on a few hours a night = hot mess.

I knew going into the bedding upgrade decision (nay, necessity: potty trained +  climbing in and out of her crib for fun) that I would need to clear my schedule for up to a month.  (People, if you have not made this change with a toddler, it is not to be taken lightly).   Because of the hit to my writing schedule, I have been taking pictures over the weeks to remind myself of just what I have accomplished in the last month.  Creativity bears fruit in other outlets that I can share with Em:  baking, gardening, landscaping.  Today, I keep my fingers crossed after two nights of longish sleep that the tide is turning and her sleep patterns are normalizing so that I get back her naps as production, not sleep, time. Time to get ideas out of my head and down on paper. One day at a time…..

UPDATE 6/11/14:  I think we have a breakthrough on the sleep training.  I am happy to begin putting this hurdle behind me and feel a bit in awe at what I have accomplished (me, the one who used to believe I didn’t want kids).   What matters more than anything is how my child looks at me in the morning:  with complete respect and love that I got down into the trenches with her.


What are your thoughts?