About Sleep

I know, I know.  Another mom writing another post about sleep.

You all know the drill.  Light on.  Light off.  Lamp on.  Water.  Juice.  Water and juice together.  Shirt is wet because water spilled on it.  Have to potty.  Didn't go.  Have to potty again.  Et cetera, et cetera and that's just me!  Kidding (almost.)  But seriously, our three year old has even used the excuses, "I can't sleep because it's too dark in my eyes" and "I can't go to sleep because Andrew is speaking Parseltongue."

 (Mr. Potter--Parselmouth himself--on the right, obviously)

And then there was the time that Reece was traumatized by a Britney Spears song on the radio.  I played the radio during nap for some background noise, and Britney's Toxic happened to play.  Well he was totally petrified and ran out of the room screaming for his life.  I calmed him down and assured him that he would be okay and the song wouldn't come on again because who would play that much old school Britney in 2013?  Midway through his second attempt at nap, guess what song hit the airwaves?  Melt. Down. 

So now that we have added a fourth kiddo into the mix I thought I could call myself at least semi-professional at this.  Luke has been a typical sweet and snuggly newborn.  He sleeps through all the noise and chaos and pretty much anywhere.

Until lately.  At three months old, he has finally decided to make himself known around here.  When he tried that at a much younger age I just swaddled him up nice and tight.  There was no escaping the baby straitjacket.  Resistance was futile, so he just went to sleep.  Woe to the mother whose baby outgrows the good swaddler!  I bought a new one--bigger size to accommodate growing baby legs, lighter weight so as not to overheat his highness in the summer.  But it can't handle the pressure.  Just when I think he's all settled and can't escape, one tiny arm wiggles out.  Fist of victory held high in the air.

(Go ahead, swaddle me.  I will defeat you.)

So I've been trying some unswaddled sleep the past few days.  Because I know you have nothing better to do, let me tell you how that's been going.  Wait.  Maybe I should let you guess.

Did you guess? 

I get him to sleep, lay him down, and then his arms start flailing.  Or else they creep really slowly up to his face to wake him up.  It's weird and uncontrollable.    Almost exactly like Ricky Bobby from Talledega Nights...

 

And then there's the business of lullabies.  The other night I actually caught myself humming "Talk Dirty" by Jason Derulo, except it was the Jimmy Fallon Ragtime Gals version.  If you haven't watched it, here's a favor from me: 

So we're working on it.  Inevitably just after everyone is securely sleeping there is an earthquake, a barking dog, a Fed Ex delivery, a tornado, or we just have to wake up and pick the kids up from school.  In fact, as I wrote this post, I had to stop twice to put a kid back to sleep.  I keep thinking I'm hearing crying but it is actually just the birds chirping outside.  I think they are Mockingjays, taunting me.

Here's to a good night of sleep, friends!  Tra la la la, tra la la la la...