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    Thursday, April 25, 2024

    FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DAYS

    Give or take a few days...it has been four hundred and fifty days. Four hundred and fifty days. Have you ever done something not that awesome for four hundred and fifty consecutive days to have any concept of how long of a period of time that is?

    My name is Michelle and I have not slept thru the night for FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DAYS.

    EFFFFFFFFFFF.............

    The Animal is breaking me down. Little Man took a full year to sleep through the night and has been awesome ever since. I had mentally prepared myself for another year of sleepless nights when The Animal was born. I did it once, I could do it again. Except this has been a year and three months and I am losing my mind.

    I don't know how I got here again. I feel like I am doing something wrong. I have changed all the variables: the heat, the cold, the pajamas, the blankets, the binkies, the blah blah BLAH. It doesn't matter. I have tried letting her cry. Hardest thing ever, but I have tried it. I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that after TWO HOURS of screaming and chucking everything out of her crib, I decided that I'd rather get up two, three, four times and nurse her for 5 minutes than lose a solid two hours of sleep at a time.

    Anytime we make any progress, something happens--a cold, the croup, a kidney infection, a tooth, a blah blah BLAH and we promptly return to square one. And let me just tell you square one is a sucky, tired place to be.

    Being tired all the time sucks. I'm cranky at my job, I'm not as good of a wife, I'm definitely not as good of a mother. And no one really cares. Everyone generally expects me to continue to do everything the same. You know, like finish a thought, complete a sentence and things like that.

    Being tired, and having it be directly related to The Animal makes me cranky with her, and frustrated with her and that makes me feel like crap. When she does wake up in the morning (usually in bed with me by that point), she is all smiles and hugs and lovey and so freakin' adorable and I just suck for feeling like this is all her fault.

    Here's the thing about all of this--I think a lot of it has to do with still breastfeeding (although I do know other breastfed babes that sleep...), and as tired as I am I won't stop doing that. Little Man weaned at sixteen months. The Animal is coming up on sixteen months and she is not close to wanting to be done yet. Which means in order for me to get through this, I'm just telling myself I will never sleep through the night again. That's the best way to cope.

    I honestly don't personally know anyone who has had worse sleepers than I have had. I know you tired and cranky mamas have got to be out there somewhere. Leave me a comment and tell me you are more tired than I am, you have had more sleepless nights than I have, and that you are hanging in there.

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