Sleep! Remember the good old days when you could lay, twisted in the sheets and listening to the birds chirping, people chattering, or vehicles cruising by, just outside your window? The sun would trickle through the opening between blinds or curtains to gently usher you into a new day and, if you were fortunate enough to have the day off from work, you could simply tunnel back under the comforter and snooze a little longer.
For nine months or more, you look forward to the new baby that will grace your life. You imagine the cuddles and the laughter. You buy baby clothes and pick out the most adorable toys. What you likely did not picture was the abrupt, frenzied wake-up call, the first time that bundle of joy throws up or pees in your bed. The bad news is that your peaceful morning is a thing of the past. The good news is that there has never been an alarm clock quite so efficient at waking you from a dead sleep.
My husband and I are big fans of the comedian Jim Gaffigan. I think we both fell for him when he told the story of his young children (he has four). Gaffigan’s take on sleeping with children had us laughing so hard we were nearly crying,
For nine months or more, you look forward to the new baby that will grace your life. You imagine the cuddles and the laughter. You buy baby clothes and pick out the most adorable toys. What you likely did not picture was the abrupt, frenzied wake-up call, the first time that bundle of joy throws up or pees in your bed. The bad news is that your peaceful morning is a thing of the past. The good news is that there has never been an alarm clock quite so efficient at waking you from a dead sleep.
My husband and I are big fans of the comedian Jim Gaffigan. I think we both fell for him when he told the story of his young children (he has four). Gaffigan’s take on sleeping with children had us laughing so hard we were nearly crying,
“There is always one awake, like they are taking shifts.” “My wife has instituted this open door policy, where if one of our kids has a nightmare, they are welcome to come in our room and pee in our bed.” “If I pretend to be asleep, maybe she will deal with it.”
The peeing and the puking in the middle of the night… that’s the tough stuff. Easing a child who was left terrified by a nightmare, that’s relatively easy. Pull him or her into your bed, snuggle up close and before long the two of you will be fast asleep once again. It’s not that easy when you have a pile of foreign matter atop your once-white sheets.
It’s kind of sad the point that you get to with kids, actually. My son, as mentioned in the previous chapter, has had far more than his fair share of illnesses. This started very early in life for him, long before the age of being alert enough to get up and head for the bathroom if feeling nauseous. This led to many nights of unexpected wake-up calls. The first of the night will generally involve calm voices and comforting words as Chris and I work together to carefully clean him up, change the bedding and start the laundry. As we try to soothe Jack, we talk nicely amongst ourselves. By the fourth or fifth time, we have been sleeping on a bare mattress with a pile of towels beneath Jack’s head and we are perfectly aware that we will not feel rested at all come morning. By this point, there’s a pile of blankets and sheets mounding in the laundry room, and any onlooker would likely think World War III has broken out.
It’s not just the middle of the night wake up calls that are difficult to get used to. Actually, as a person becomes more adept to parenthood, the middle of the night stuff becomes relatively easy (so long as it isn’t occurring every hour on the hour). Shuffling a kid into your bed to ease away the aftershock of a nightmare doesn’t require all that much effort and even preparing a bottle while changing a diaper doesn’t seem so bad. As the baby grows, those rough nights are few and farther between. The trouble is that early mornings become a routine, whether it is a Monday or a Saturday. I know that there are parents out there who have children willing to sleep until 9:00 AM. I hate those parents (I’m kidding… sort of).
Blessed was the day that my oldest learned how to operate the TV. Go ahead, judge me, but when you are used to being pulled from your cozy bed at 4:30AM, morning cartoons are a saving grace. Suddenly the kids were finding their way to the living room to watch cartoons and no longer required me as a source of entertainment.
This is certainly not to say that I got to sleep in. I have come to think that children feel that if they do not regularly ‘check on’ their sleeping parents they may disappear from their beds never to return. For all I know, that may be the case. Fortunately for me, my youngest two are very proficient at checking in. Beginning every morning at about five AM, I am inspected like a specimen on a scientist’s table. Little fingers will poke my face until I jolt upward. Progressively louder whispers of mom, just inches from me will not be ignored. Lights may be flicked on in moments of excitement. Still, though, I make out better than my husband. Though the scrutiny of me begins earlier in the morning, when the kids feel that Chris has been sleeping for too long, he becomes a trampoline. (I do make a concerted effort to muffle my laugh in my pillow upon hearing the ‘ugh!’ from his side of the bed).
It should be mentioned that I am writing this chapter during the summer months. This being the season providing the best opportunity to sleep in, which means the earliest possible wake up calls. If the school bus were bearing down on our house, I would be in their bedroom prying them out of a bed and listening to groans of ‘I’m too tired.’ Surely if I let them sleep, this fatigue-based phenomenon would end approximately two minutes after the bus passed the house. Weekends and summer mornings there is no such trouble. With the freedom to sleep as long as they like, they generally choose to wake no later than five.
It’s kind of sad the point that you get to with kids, actually. My son, as mentioned in the previous chapter, has had far more than his fair share of illnesses. This started very early in life for him, long before the age of being alert enough to get up and head for the bathroom if feeling nauseous. This led to many nights of unexpected wake-up calls. The first of the night will generally involve calm voices and comforting words as Chris and I work together to carefully clean him up, change the bedding and start the laundry. As we try to soothe Jack, we talk nicely amongst ourselves. By the fourth or fifth time, we have been sleeping on a bare mattress with a pile of towels beneath Jack’s head and we are perfectly aware that we will not feel rested at all come morning. By this point, there’s a pile of blankets and sheets mounding in the laundry room, and any onlooker would likely think World War III has broken out.
It’s not just the middle of the night wake up calls that are difficult to get used to. Actually, as a person becomes more adept to parenthood, the middle of the night stuff becomes relatively easy (so long as it isn’t occurring every hour on the hour). Shuffling a kid into your bed to ease away the aftershock of a nightmare doesn’t require all that much effort and even preparing a bottle while changing a diaper doesn’t seem so bad. As the baby grows, those rough nights are few and farther between. The trouble is that early mornings become a routine, whether it is a Monday or a Saturday. I know that there are parents out there who have children willing to sleep until 9:00 AM. I hate those parents (I’m kidding… sort of).
Blessed was the day that my oldest learned how to operate the TV. Go ahead, judge me, but when you are used to being pulled from your cozy bed at 4:30AM, morning cartoons are a saving grace. Suddenly the kids were finding their way to the living room to watch cartoons and no longer required me as a source of entertainment.
This is certainly not to say that I got to sleep in. I have come to think that children feel that if they do not regularly ‘check on’ their sleeping parents they may disappear from their beds never to return. For all I know, that may be the case. Fortunately for me, my youngest two are very proficient at checking in. Beginning every morning at about five AM, I am inspected like a specimen on a scientist’s table. Little fingers will poke my face until I jolt upward. Progressively louder whispers of mom, just inches from me will not be ignored. Lights may be flicked on in moments of excitement. Still, though, I make out better than my husband. Though the scrutiny of me begins earlier in the morning, when the kids feel that Chris has been sleeping for too long, he becomes a trampoline. (I do make a concerted effort to muffle my laugh in my pillow upon hearing the ‘ugh!’ from his side of the bed).
It should be mentioned that I am writing this chapter during the summer months. This being the season providing the best opportunity to sleep in, which means the earliest possible wake up calls. If the school bus were bearing down on our house, I would be in their bedroom prying them out of a bed and listening to groans of ‘I’m too tired.’ Surely if I let them sleep, this fatigue-based phenomenon would end approximately two minutes after the bus passed the house. Weekends and summer mornings there is no such trouble. With the freedom to sleep as long as they like, they generally choose to wake no later than five.