I challenged myself to write a blog post at least once a week. For months, I’ve met that goal, but now I’m falling short.

Why, you ask? Because I’m TIRED. I’m sleepy. And I know there are much worse things in the world, but when I’m tired, it trumps almost everything else. I looked back at my calendar and realized that today marks one month since Hugh quit sleeping through the night.

We blamed it on Spoleto, which was mostly true. And because our schedules were hectic and we didn’t see him much during the day or at night, we let him into our bed. There, he would sleep peacefully, except for those times of 4:30am wake-ups. And except for kicking me in the head half the night.

Then Spoleto ended and of course, he still expects to be in our bed. So our new routine involves an hour of trying to get him to sleep, then two hours later waking up to the screams of “Help me! Get me outta here! Pick up HUGH!” (In case we didn’t remember who we were supposed to pick up).

Tasha reminds me that his poor sleep habits are our fault. That it’s time to let him scream it out. I nod my head in agreement, but inside I’m saying through clenched teeth, “IT’S HIS FAULT!”

And also wondering how we can let him cry it out when he says things at 1am like, “I’m not a big boy, mama! I’m just a LITTLE boy!”

I know this, too, will pass. That one day I’ll miss his chubby warm legs wrapped around mine, the faint odor of pee-pants in my face. But for now, get back in your bed, buster, and stay there!

Love,

Your Tired Mommy

This is not your pillow.

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