Friday, January 9, 2009

Can't Sleep

I've just spent the past hour next to Owen's crib in a stance that would make Quasimodo proud.  I sang You Are My Sunshine until I hung my head and cried.  And now I'm sitting here listening to Owen whimper through his efforts to dismantle his crib.  His naps have flown the coop.

They'll come back, right?  Please say they'll come back.

Ack!  I hate being in this place where I want so desperately for Owen to sleep.  A sleep schedule seems to be one of those things that the harder you chase it the more elusive it becomes.  I'm the goof thwacking face-first into the mud, and Owen's nap is the greased pig.


If and when I get him to sleep in the afternoons, the lengths I'll go to keep him that way are ridiculous.  I stuff a towel under his door as an extra buffer from outside noise and light, and of course there are blackout shades, a noise machine and two fans inside his room serving the same purpose.  I put two more closed doors between Owen and the cats and me, turn off the phone ringer, don't run the dishwasher, washer or dryer, don't flush any toilets and even turn off the thermostat because it's right outside his room and makes this awful clicking noise when it cycles on.  But you can only control so many variables.

On Wednesday, some teenage boy (with hopes of being validated by the car he drives) went roaring up our street less than an hour into Owen's nap.

On Thursday, the yard guys showed up at minute 55.

And today I have no idea what happened to wake Owen up the first time.  I do know that I nearly had him to sleep the second time only to be thwarted by Coby Cat's beating on the hall door.  I was so angry I vowed to kill the creature and have him made into a Davy Crockett hat.

Maybe it's a growth spurt or a new tooth or the result of our recent travels.  Who knows?  I could drive myself nuts trying to figure it out.  In the meantime I'll do my best to act like it doesn't bother me.  

And hopefully stay clear of the mud.

At the park with Isaiah.


Jennifer said...

You sound so tired and frustrated. I'm sorry! I love you!

Rebecca Davenport said...

I bet he is growing! His little bones are probably stretching him to be a 6'5 basketball player. I am sorry you are not getting any sleep. Maybe you can take the weekend off and Grandma Stevens can take him to play! Don't be afraid to ask for help! If I were there I would send you to a hotel and keep the bear!

Coach said...

There are so many things that could be happening. I think you pretty much hit on all of them. Teething, growth spurt, etc. The only thing I can think to tell you is you might try giving him a little Tylenol to ease the pain if he has any and to relax him so he can go to sleep. I am not saying to drug him, just enough to help him stop fighting sleep. If all else fails, speak with his physician. Do what you need to do because you can't afford to get down yourself. Remember my story about the flight attendant. You have to secure your own mask first. All my love, Daddy

Grandma DD said...

Hang in there! Believe me when I say this . . . you will miss it someday! Lot's of prayer will get you through this and now we also know to drink LOTS of water! Love you.

Joe said...

Maybe he's just not tired. It is playoff season, so there is a good reason.

Kari said...

I'm so sorry you are going through this! It hurts you just as much as it hurts him...I know. Because if he doesn't sleep...neither do you. Hopefully, this will not last long! I pray that he starts sleeping better for you again. I wish there was something I could do for you.

Until next time...

pb said...

This too shall pass. He will get back on schedule just give him a little time. Your Mom is right, you will miss this someday.
Love you and take care of you!