So we sit here in opposite ends of the room, stewing, angry and resentful of the other person. I hate that you come out of our son’s room screaming under your breath with frustrations that he won’t sleep on your terms. I resent that you then leave it up to me to carry the 15kg child back to his room to try and relax him into sleep even though now we are all so hyped up that it is a fallacy. I don’t understand why you can’t just let him have a tantrum if he doesn’t want to sleep, and why this drags out every night, for two hours and then you are up again and sleeping with him at 3am or 4am to wake in the morning complaining about the shit sleep you’ve had.
Yeah well I have a shit sleep every night with a baby kicking my bladder and sore left hip from pelvic pain. But we can’t all be able body and minded, and I guess those of us who are are privileged to be as such.
Sorry, that was mean.
Back to business.
Mr 21 months (I keep changing because I really have no idea if he is 20 or 21 months at the moment) is crying at the crack under the door, for mumma, which is his word for dad. I am just the person that gets a gesture every now and then or I might be promoted to mum if like now, I have been the main carer for the last couple of days.
The crying is softening, Neither of us is making a move to go to him though as we are so heightened so turned up and hateful that the energy would not help our son right now.
I managed to calm down enough to go in – 10 minutes crying and he had soaked two patches on the floor. But is that not better than having an aggressive parent in the bedroom? Anyway I’m having something to eat and warm decafe tea to relax before heading to bed. And hoping that the night is better than most and that he sleeps through. Just once little man.