I’ve recently introduced my toddlers to the magical potion that is Sleepytime Tea. Chamomile goodness with just a hint of local honey *chef’s kiss*, you really can’t go wrong. They love it. This, after so much sleep-deprivation (in spite of sleep training) for the last couple of years (like you can sleep at all when you’re pregnant), was really just a Hail Mary.
Sleep At All Costs
We didn’t stop at the tea either. As a family, most evenings after dinner, we really enjoy taking the kids for a stroll. Coen even enjoys tagging along from time to time, bopping around new ideas and plans with us for his future as a game designer.
We have this amazing Evenflo stroller wagon (funny story how we won this by choosing a number between 1-1000…it was almost Halloween, so of course we chose 666). Anyway, we usually love loading the toddlers up and knocking out a mile and a half around the neighborhood. We ditched the Hell-wagon for the walks.
We don’t get to walk as far or at a pace that we would prefer, but we go to exhaust the last bit of energy the babies have by letting them both use their own two feet. Or, in the case of tonight, some hands and knees…or Orson just deciding to sprawl out, face-down, on the concrete sidewalk.
So far, at least for the past 3 nights, the combination of Sleepytime and walky-time has been relatively successful. Nova still stirs on occasion, but simmers down quickly, which beats the hell out of sneaking into their nursery multiple times at night.
I’d try to calm her while Orson would wake up, stand up at the rail of his crib, and reach out to either offer me consoling pats on my back and/or pickpocket my phone from my shorts. At least he took to sleep training easily, and conks right back out.
No Rest For the Weary
Maybe the damage is already done, though. She’s sleeping better. I, on the other hand, am not. I think she has been the one sleep training me…
No, truth be told, my poor sleep stems from more than just the chronic lack thereof. I’ve never been a great sleeper, for a multitude of reasons. I’m sure, in part, it’s due to my years of working night shift, as well as chronic anxiety and restless sleep from my own childhood traumas. Maybe it’s the fact that my husband snores the second his head hits the pillow…though I may be crashing out faster than he does these days.
Maybe it’s the fact that when I am able to get to a deep enough state of sleep, I’m too amped up to have anything but vivid stress dreams that leave me feeling even more exhausted the next morning. Case in point: my dream last night of being in a car wreck. I drove off a cliff into water. Only to be rescued by a serial killer named Cabbage-Head. And this guy had plans to make me into boudin sausage. So there’s that…
Priorities vs Sleep Training
And it also comes down to a conscious choice. Am I worn out enough to probably crash out as soon as the babies are down? Unequivocally, YES. Am I willing to sacrifice the little time my husband and I have to unwind together for the sake of getting to bed at a decent time? Heck no. At least not yet.
So, here it is, 10:25 PM. I’m about to get up to brew us some Sleepytime Extra Tea. Even knowing fully well that we’re gonna watch at least one episode of Resident Alien together. Then, we’ll get in bed when we’ve enjoyed our tea and it’s about midnight. Which means sleep will come closer to 1 AM.
I wish I could blame the lack of sleep on getting “sleep training” from my toddler. But I know the number one reason I’m really not resting. I want to spend time with the man of my dreams.
And I’m not referring to Cabbage-Head.