A Nightmare Scenario
So, the Ruby Sleep Saga continues it’s relentless rampage over my life. We’ve had not a few horrendous nights during the past two weeks and to be totally honest, it’s somewhat surprising that I haven’t been pulled from my child’s throat by officers clad in the standard blue uniforms worn by protectors of America’s Finest City.
Last Saturday when Sam was gone—the same night I enjoyed my red fleece blanket and a sappy movie—Ruby awoke no less than ten times before 1:30a.m. I find it odd that a quick Google search of methods for effectively dealing with a sleepless toddler didn’t provide a single hit to the tactics I employed that evening, among them: stomping down the hall to her room, screaming at her by the light of a ten watt night-light, throwing her Precious (aka her blankie) at her when she asked for a fresh one, angrily removing every stuffed animal from the side of her bed as she indicated—one by one—that they frightened her, pounding on the mattress with my fist and then storming out of her room to brood in the darkness of my room and my heart. This is the Belfer Method, apparently, and because there’s no way on earth I’m the only one ever to have employed it, I think it should be listed right there between Ferber and Sears.
I screamed at, and frightened the crap out of, that beautiful little child. That one. Right up there. Wow. Yeah. Really great for the self-esteem, I’ll tell you. So…
That night, I eventually calmed myself and calmed my child. I apologized profusely for my abhorrent behavior, explained that Mama makes mistakes sometimes and that I didn’t mean to add to her fright. That my ultimate goal is to see to it that she’s safe and confident and that, if she’d give me another chance, I’d do better. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow, I told her. She hugged me tight and I took her to my bed. Then, as if my guilt wasn’t humiliating enough, the kid puked on me. Some would call it justice. I would call it Why Me?
Turns out that Ruby was sick-sick and not just suffering from The Girl Who Cried Wolf Syndrome, which I could have deduced had it not been for the fact that I haven’t had even one night of 6-hours uninterrupted sleep in a year-and-a-half thanks to her many ploys, and I’m at a loss for late-night rational thinking. And it is because of this state-of-mind that my sympathy extends only so far. I know it needs to flourish, that I’m the adult and it’s my responsibility to dig deep and locate, within the fog of my negative headspace, some gargantuan amount of understanding and compassion—even fake it, if I have to—but I’m runnin’ on fumes, here and I’m not always rational.
Fast forward to last night and we had a repeat of Saturday only this time sans vomit et avec Sam. (Forgive the French but it makes me feel a little more worldly, a little more sophisticated and therefore, more capable). It was little consolation. Ruby was awake, on and off, until 11:30p.m. and then up for the day beginning at 3:35am. This time she was terrorized, saying that Frogs! Frogs! The “fwags” are biting me! and Spiders! Spiders! Spiders are on my toes! and lordy, you should hear her shriek about the alligator!
Having Sam present was helpful because I was able to remain totally calm as I tortured him between Ruby’s outbursts, with a vivid description of how desolate I feel on the inside during the night hours and how this feeling permeates my daylight existence and, as a bonus, our marriage. I spend so much energy trying to shove down this undercurrent of frustration and exasperation that I can barely enjoy all of the great things we have going.
I could go on and on here but I’m not sure what more to say. I got a lot of kind and helpful comments/advice from the last post about this but honestly, we’ve tried everything we know to try. Today, during her doctor appointment, we discussed the sleep issues with the physician and ended up buying a white noise machine directly after we left there. We’re going to try that next. And we’ve decided that the two violent and frightening films we let her watch (Lady and the “Trampoline” and Jungle Book) are off-limits indefinitely. There might also be a wee bit of B-E-N-A-D-R-Y-L in the child’s milk tonight, too.
Something has got to change. I can’t keep living like this. My marriage cannot survive me living like this. I love my daughter but I start to resent her. And she deserves so much better than that. I owe her better than that. I just start to doubt whether I have it in me to do this…as if I have any other choice. You know that rock and the hard place? Well, if you look there, you’ll find me curled around myself, weeping inconsolably. If you happen to pass by, just offer me a tissue and move along, since there’s not much you can do to help.
The sun is going down as I write this and I’ve begun to dread what the night has in store for our little compound. But I’m going to try to quiet my mind and apply the Rick Steves Travel Philosophy to my life: If you don’t like the scenery, change your liking. So! The one silver lining in all of last night was that, when we finally gave in to the fact that there would be no more sleep, Sam and Ruby and I got to watch the sun rise together. Even though 2008 is starting out to be equally as treacherous as 2007, I have to think that there are brighter nights ahead.
I cannot believe how much Ruby sounds exactly like my son (he’s 9 now). I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind. Sleep deprivation is a serious thing. I did the same things you did. I screamed and cried and was not very nice sometimes. Only to be racked by guilt the next day and waiting for the karma gods to come and take their revenge. I finally resorted to benadryl many nights. And then I think I just gave up and just refused to go in there more than once a night anymore. No matter how much he cried. I would go in and tell him he was fine and there was nothing to be scared of but it was bedtime and that was it. And then I would sit outside his door in the hall and wonder why I was such a sucky mother. And try not to put my fist through the wall. I think he cried himself to sleep for about 2 weeks before he finally started sleeping through most of the night. I know you don’t want anymore advice because I’m sure your frustration level is over the top right now. But just know you’re not alone. I hope you find a solution soon.
…and I hope you guys have a great year!
Thanks, Melanie. Your comment made me cry…I’m so glad to know that I’m not the only one to be going through this. It is really isolating. As for the advice, I don’t mind it. I just don’t know what anyone can tell me to do that I haven’t already tried. The crying it out thing worked for a while when Ruby was in her crib but now she just gets out of bed and comes down the hall. If we try it again—and it’s agonizing because she’ll cry for three hours—we’ll have to put up the baby gate and hope she doesn’t scale it. Thanks so much!
Your situation sounds just awful. Your vivid description reminded me of another blog I read recently: http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/2007/12/some-children-c.html
Although she doesn’t offer any solutions, you can read it and know that you are not alone.
Hey, and maybe you can put Sam on late-night frog-stomping duty for about a week so that you can catch up on your sleep.
Sending you my sympathies…
A long-ass time ago my sister baby sat for Aaron and Beth who had bed times and didn’t like them at all. Fighting with my children over going to bed led her to the conclusion she would NOT do likewise. Consequently, her son Nick, now 22, has never had a bed time. she kept the little bugger up until he was ready to fall over. Kid started going to bed like a champ. He always had to get up for the days’ activities–no lug-abed in compensation for poor decision making. Yes, this was at an age well before he had capacity to actually decide anything.
After literally years of fighting with Beth and Aaron, I instituted the ‘one get up’ rule. They had to go to bed at the appointed hour BUT each kid had one free ‘get up’. He/she could get up for a drink, to remind me to review homework, to tell me I was the meanest ugliest mom ever bred, or to cuddle for 5 minutes on the sofa with totally inappropriate television blaring in the background. Believe it or not–that worked for us. Laissez-faire worked for Nick.
So if these were already in your arsenal, forgive me. I know that it is a pain in every joint of your body–and in your psyche too.
Thank you once again for such an honest post…the Belfer Method, love it…the Belfer Babe brought tears to my eyes, may be my favorite photo of the little cherub to date.
In the midst of my own 3yo sleep issues, I resolved to just sleep with the kid in his full sized bed to try to get some sleep and deal with the bad habit later. I figure the repercussions of my lack of sleep are much greater on kid and partner than what some might call a bad habit. A body pillow between us keeps the little shit from kicking the hell out of me through the night….
Aaryn:
I’m so, so sorry and, boy, do I feel ya. There are few tasks more isolating, exhausting, and emotionally draining than parenting a small child. And the middle of the night with a sleepless child is a lonely, bleak time.
I don’t need to tell you this, but sleep deprivation is a form of torture, a device for getting a person to break. That creeping dread, that snappish impatience, those irrational thoughts…I’ve been there. I was there four nights ago.
My husband and I have our worst, craziest fights in the middle of the night while we’re struggling to care for two small children while getting just enough rest to function the next day. Occasionally, we say really shitty things to each other. We get cranky and resentful and take it out on each other. And it sucks.
So, now that I’ve put the misery in commiserate, I’ll try to help:
Is Ruby still taking a daytime nap? A few months ago, Ellie was being a total pain in the ass at bedtime: getting out of bed, waking up her baby brother, squealing, screaming, call for us twenty times, etc. We replaced her daytime nap (she was already skipping a day here and there) with stories and quiet time and it worked like magic. She goes to bed at eight o’clock, exhausted and grateful for the rest. (Also, I still let her have a binky, which is a guiltguiltguilt issue for another day.)
Again, I am so sorry. I don’t even know you, but I wish that I could squeeze your hand and take you out for some coffee (or the self-medicating booze of your choice).
Warmest regards,
Melanie
You are not alone…we went through that with both Atticus and Hawkeye. Peace to you, and thanks to Sam for being there to absorb your torture.
I read your last post all ready to dispense fantastic advice. Ben has been a terrible sleeper since birth, but about a month ago we started to get things under control. And it only took two years!
I started to feel confident, and ready to show off my superior parenting skills. But Karma has a way of showing me what an asshole I really am.
Days after you last wrote about your sleep troubles, things started to unravel for us. It peaked with a disastrous cry-it-out attempt that resulted in fire hose vomiting. I’m not sure I’ve seen someone spew bodily fluids like that before. We’re still finding dried vomit in places we didn’t know it could reach.
So here we are, back to long, drawn out bedtime routines and constant night waking. I’d offer to help you figure out how to get Ruby to sleep, but do you really want advice from someone whose best attempt has resulted in only one month of decent sleep in two years?
well you’re welcome. the funny thing is, when my daughter came along (she’s 7 now, but was a complete accident because i swore never to have another kid after the first little monster!) and she started the crying thing all night, i had already been beaten down and subdued so i just put her in the bed with me. and she has pretty much slept with me every night since. like a little angel! lol! of course, she informed me that she’s not leaving my bed until she’s a teenager!!!
my husband has slept in the guest bedroom for 8 years now and believe it or not, it has actually improved our marriage. we’re totally opposite though. i’m a night owl and he’s an early bird. and it doesn’t hinder our sex life either. our guest room has become the “sex” room! lol!
p.s. back when logan (my son) was such a little monster, my husband and i would switch up and take different days. even if he wanted me when it was his dads day, he couldn’t have me. i was determined not to let him be the little babytator (as opposed to a dictator) in our house
How did the machine work? When Ruby wakes up does she say shes scared or does she just wake up screaming. The reason I ask is when the boys were little we had a heck of a time with them sleeping more than 10 minutes at a time and they were diagnosed with acid reflux. Of course everyone had their own questions on the diagnosis like does he throw up alot does he not eat etc. In the boys case they didn’t throw up and they ate aggressively AND DIDN’T SLEEP also symptoms of reflux. Maybe her sudden wakening could be due to this but its so slight that there are no outwardly signs. That diagnosis was a god send they both eventually grew out of it but sometimes Jake complains about tummy aches after eating certain foods. Also Jake had unusually large tonsils which we noticed around 3 and this was causing sleep apnea and waking. We had them removed and he sleeps like a champ. I’m not a doctor and I know another trip to the office may seem dreadful but if you have a help line maybe you can talk to them. It may be a long shot but maybe not. I’m sure you also don’t want to read another thing but check out some stuff on reflux her is one site.
http://www.reflux.org/
Wishing you success.
I second the notion of each parent getting a couple of nights off. Then at least one of you will be well rested and relatively stable.
Have you tried surrendering to the family bed thing. Will she stay asleep if she is right next to you?
It would be so helpful to know what is going on in that beautiful little head of hers.
The best thing I can say is that this will pass. Sadly, other shit will crop up, but THIS shall pass.
And don’t get all attached and clingy to that Shitty Mother of the Day award…whether we admit it or not, we all have a little space on our shelf for one of those trophies.