Sleep is for the weak......

The last couple of weeks of my life have been....well, for lack of a better word, hellish.

The wee Pirate has decided that he no longer needs sleep to exist.  More specifically, he no longer needs sleep in anything greater than a two hour increment, around the clock.  Now, the Pirate has never been a great sleeper, unlike the Princess who reliably slept through the night at about the four month mark.  I remember hearing horror stories from other parents who were blessed stuck with these wee non-sleepers and somewhat snidely thought to myself that they must be suffering from some parental skills deficit which clearly I did not have.  I mean, they are babies.....haven't we all heard the phrase 'sleep like a baby'?  Babies were meant to sleep.....or so I once foolishly thought.  If I had the ability to get my hands on whatever genius coined that phrase, I would love to tie him to a chair (because no woman could come up with that gem) and let him experience a night at our house.....sleep like a baby, my ass.....sleep like a meth addict jonesing for a high is more like it.

Being the eternal optimist definition of ignorance, each night as we head to bed I think to myself with renewed vigour - this will be the night!  tonight we sleep!  My optimism, which at this point is already clinging to a thread, is quickly crushed night after night by about the forty-five minute mark which is reliably (the only reliable thing about this kid) when the Pirate wakes for his first round of let's drag Mommy thru hell.  Round one is followed shortly thereafter by rounds 2 through 84 as the night wears on in yet another sleepless blur.  The torture is only ended at roughly the 5am mark when the Pirate decides he's fully rested and ready to face another day.  And Mommy drags her increasingly weary ass out of bed yet again, looks at her spawn, and thinks for the 4382nd time that night how lucky I am that this kid is as cute as he is.....nature built in a genius species preservation method on that one.

What I love most about this entire endeavour through the depths of hell?  The advice.  Oh Lord, the advice (which I am secretly compiling to write my best selling novel cracking the code on why babies don't sleep because clearly every other parent and non parent on the planet has the solve for why my baby won't sleep).....but let's keep that between us, because as soon as I tire of the nights of endless awakefullness and decide to put an end to this nonsense using one of the oh-so-many tidbits of delightfully helpful and effective advice that has been bestowed upon me I intend to end the suffering of every other sleep deprived parent on the planet by sharing these gems of wisdom which clearly have been overlooked by all of us less that intelligent parents who, with a bit of effort, could easily be sleeping through the night.  Right.  Glad we sorted that out.  For the record - letting him cry, not letting him cry, letting him comfort nurse, not letting him comfort nurse, letting him sleep in my bed, making him sleep in his own bed, darkening the room, lightening the room, adding rice cereal to his last bottle, feeding him a jar of baby food before bed, swaddling him, not swaddling him, giving him a warm bath, rubbing lavender oil on his temples, massaging his tummy counter-clockwise, giving him a pacifier, not giving him a pacifier, moving his bedtime earlier, moving his bedtime later, using white noise, using music specially composed and "scientifically proven" to help babies sleep, silencing the room, and standing on my left foot while singing kumbaya and hopping in a clockwise circle have all not worked.  This has lead me to the shocking realization that......

Some babies just aren't good sleepers.  Period.  Add Pirate to the list....hell, make him the President.

And so, just like every other night, we head to bed in what will most likely be a futile attempt at anything other than very broken sleep, and very sore nipples as I feed my wee piranha for the bazillionth time.....but what I do get are those very few (and I mean very few) moments when he is asleep and I can take in the breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful look on my baby's face while I marvel in what a miracle he actually is.  And whether it's the sleep deprivation or just the sheer joy of his being in my life, it always brings a bit of a tear to my eye.  And I remind myself that as much as each exhaustion filled day is beginning to blur, so too will this time in our lives as the years pass.  These memories of sleeplessness will be just that....memories....along with the memories of how I once rocked my baby until he fell asleep....and when he's a teenager and I can't drag his butt out of bed, I'll probably long for these days when I held him tightly in my arms and sang him to sleep.....and so while I wish these endless nights were a memory.....

maybe I don't wish them away too soon.