John was out of town last night, so of course Charlie, my champion sleeper, wouldn't go to sleep and wouldn't stay asleep. (Is the full moon sleeping curse a real thing?) At 3:00 am, I thought I was losing my mind. At 5:30 am, I was sure of it. We had meltdowns about diaper changes, nose wiping, books being stuck, going to the library, lunch, etc. At 12:30, I laid Charlie in bed and prayed he'd sleep until the next morning. At 12:33 when the tree trimmers pulled up across the street, I knew I was in for a long afternoon. He never slept, not a wink, and somehow our terrible day got worse. We had meltdowns about meltdowns.
Basically since his failed nap, I'd been sitting outside, reading Charlie his Ranger Rick, cutting up an apple and handing it to him in an almost comatose state. The energy literally sucked right out of my bones. Simply biding my time until John walked through the door, and when he did, I was out of here. I'd planned my escape, but when he showed up, I couldn't even muster the energy. So I cried, finished cooking dinner and we sat with Chuck as he melted down for the 29,000th time today.
My patience needs some work. My body needs some sleep. My head surely realizes how easy our norm is, but I'm not certain I needed today to appreciate that. Bring us sleep, bring us peace, bring that sweet, flower-wielding Charlie back.
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