I was assaulted by a radio.
It was more the radio host (Amy) and it was of the verbal kind. In her defense, Amy was trying to be helpful, but had she been here in person I might have had to punch her right in the kisser. (As lovingly as possible of course.)
You see, my child doesn’t sleep. She has never slept. It’s been 19.5 months and she has never slept a whole night. I used to think it was me, but now I’m pretty sure it’s not. It’s her. If you have never had a child who is a terrible sleeper, I promise you, you just don’t understand.
I read a blog the other day that asked the question: what number of kid(s) was the hardest transition for you? There were over 100 comments on this blog and I read them all. The most interesting thing to me was that over 90% seemed to think it was not about transition of 0-1 or 1-2 etc….it was about the child who never slept. Over and over again, the transition that was the hardest for parents was when they ended up with a non-sleeper. I needed to read that blog.
Last night (morning) Kris and I were up at 12:30, 2:30, 3:30, 4:30, 6:30 and then up for the day at 7:30. Doesn’t that sound horrendous? It was. Also horrendous was the cat throwing up all over our bedroom at the 3:30 time slot and me not knowing until I stepped in it barefoot. #reallife
When we have nights like these in our house (which is at least once a week, minus the cat vomit) it is best to only make jokes in the morning…anything else I cannot handle. For example: this morning at 7:30, my lovely daughter and I were happily singing “Wheels on the Bus” (because we have so much energy in the morning -Yay!- and she always manages to seem completely unfazed by the events of the previous night) and my husband enters the room and joins in.
Loudly he sings:
The Mamas on the bus go, “RAWR RAWR RAWR! RAWR RAWR RAWR! RAWR RAWR RAWR!
The Mamas on the bus go, “RAWR RAWR RAWR!” because their babies won’t sleep.
Mind you as he did this he held his arms high above his head, made his hands into claws and completely distorted his face while dancing around. I died.
You know why? Because one, he is hilarious and it was so funny. I wish I had a video. But two, because it was so true. I think the only reason my daughter went to sleep at all was because I did roar so loud that whatever might have been scaring her in her room was nothing compared to a scary mommy in the hall.
Quick caveat: Scary mommy is not how I like to parent. In fact, Kris and I are actually very big supporters of gentle parenting.
Oh uh, cue a meme about how NOT spanking our child is going to ruin her, you and somehow America… I mean, we support gentle parenting, so shouting at 3:00 am at the top of my lungs to “get in bed” was not my favorite moment.
Anyway, jokes are good. Kris knows I need to laugh after a terrible night and he is good at making it happen.
Amy, on the other hand. Oh, dear Amy. (Remember this is about being verbally assaulted by the radio host.) The night before I shuffled into the kitchen and flipped on that blasted radio was another every-hour-of-the-night night. Also, my daughter has been really sick for the previous two weeks. Pneumonia, fever, three doctor visits, one ER trip, two antibiotics, a steroid and breathing treatments three times a day…and I felt like I could not catch a break.
Plus, love the child dearly, but she has really entered into a new phase of demonstrating her independence. You know, plates look better as hats, I won’t eat my food because you cut it, green beans only taste good after I yell at you for putting them on my plate, how dare you hand me a cup of water or let me ride in the fun carts with steering wheels at the grocery store type of independence. (I literally had a lady walk by us today at the store and say to screaming A, “I just saw you and you were so happy…what happened?” “I asked her if she wanted to drive the car,” I replied. Because #truth and #toddlers.
(Just for some context with what has been going on around these parts.)
So, the night before was one of those nights where my husband and I saw more numbers on the clock than we had missed. It was a I.Just.Can’t.Even. type of morning. I shuffled into the kitchen, flipped on the radio and Amy the Optimist says something along the lines of, “Attention moms! Here’s some great advice for you. You should try waking up 15 minutes before your child is awake to start your day with alone/quiet time…when your child walks in the room always make sure you are smiling at them…” I honestly I don’t even remember what happened next…I think I blacked out.
But when I came to I started shouting:
DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD LOVE TO WAKE UP 15 MINUTES BEFORE MY CHILD? I WOULD LOVE TO. LOVE TO. BUT PLEASE TELL ME, AMY, WHICH HOUR SHOULD I PICK TO WAKE UP BEFORE HER? 11:00 PM? 2:30 AM? 4:00 AM? 5:30 AM? 7:00 AM? WHICH ONE? WHICH ONE? PICK ONE? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WAKE UP BEFORE HER WHEN SHE WON’T SLEEP FOR ANY OF THE HOURS?
AND YOU WANT ME TO SMILE?
YOU SMILE, AMY, YOU SMILE!
I think this is when the radio got turned off…It was also when my husband walked over with a burnt pancake, put it gently down in front of me and said, “Look–it matches your mood! Extra crispy :)”
I needed that, it made me laugh.
So my dear Amy, I know you meant well, but listen: I’m 36 weeks pregnant and I haven’t slept in a year and a half. I am suffering from two very serious medical conditions called pregnancy rage and over the top hormones. If you want me to smile and get up any earlier, then please put a rush on getting your booty to Ohio and offer to babysit. If not, please and quite respectfully, shove it.