To sleep, perchance to dream

Once again, we are back at the sleep issue. The last time I talked about it, I was trying to sleep train Jordan. So many things have since happened that there has been much backsliding with regards to this issue. There was first, going away on holiday which of course, totally threw them off routine; the late flight plus late dinners did not help the matter. Then there was the moving. With a new house and a new bed, there was much discomfort with was manifested in nightmares and multiple wakings at night. Before we had a chance to get that settled, there was the pneumonia that we had to fight. And shortly after that, the twins being sent away because of Packrat's suspected H1N1 had to be added into the mix.

So, basically, the twins have had an extremely disruptive few months and it has been reflected in their sleep patterns. The problem with their sleep patterns is that when they wake, I wake too. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time and now that I'm trying to gestate their sibling, I need more sleep. Unfortunately, this elder brother and sister aren't all that considerate.

Last night, I decided, enough was enough. They are two, they are eating very well, even Baby J who has managed to get some chub in her cheeks. Evan woke and asked for milk at 2 am. I told him that he wasn't getting milk till 5 but he could have water. His response was to fling the bottle of water angrily at the one who was proffering it. There was much complaining and crying but I stood my ground and pretended to sleep. All his histrionics unfortunately woke up Baby J who joined him in asking for water at 3 am. Note that although Evan asked for water, he wouldn't take it and got angry because what he actually wanted was milk.

I weathered their plaintive bleating till about 3.40 before I announced that I was leaving the room to make their milk. Baby J was cheeky and parrots "mommy making milk". Evan was tossing and turning uncomfortably, trying to get back to sleep without the milk. He was also impatient. As I made the milk, I wondered if I could push it till 4 am. I decided then to spend the interim 20 minutes resting my eyes which turned out into an hour's nap!

Of course, that was not surprising when most of the rest of the world on our time zone was asleep and I should have been too. But my poor children! I rushed back to their room only to hear Baby J wailing quite plaintively for her father. She must have given up on Mommy by then. Evan however, had fallen back to sleep.

My guilt escalated when I saw the mess in the room. It was akin to locking a puppy up in the bathroom the whole day without anything to do. Baby J's school bag was ransacked and there were papers all over the floor. The cupboard doors were open too, indicating that she had tried to entertain herself in the hour that Mommy went to milk the cow and pastuerise the milk. Tears were running down her face and she was sitting beside her sleeping brother sobbing.

Was I evil for putting Jordan through that? And was I evil for denying Evan milk and allowing him to miserably fall back to sleep? In my mind, I knew they could do without the milk and they would be better off learning to sleep through the night. My heart however, bled for what I put them through. It's hard to ignore the heart for the important lessons that have to be taught.

Of course, I face opposition by the parentals that help look after the children. They are of the opinion that the children should be given milk when they awake and ask for it. I used to think that way too but it's been two years and two years worth of disrupted sleep that I can barely afford. They do the nights occasionally. Most of the time, the burden is mine. Not Packrat's because he works, not our helper's because on a full night's sleep I already have enough issue with the quality of her work. I'm not about to throw in another excuse for her.

So, I need to grit my teeth and let them work through this and learn how to sleep. But how much of this my heart can take, I really don't know. The cries are heartbreaking and I feel like I am committing parental sin of Biblical proportion where I am giving him a viper/ stone when he asks for fish/ bread (Matthew 7:9-10). I need to not be weak here, for their sake and my own. For that thin hope that in the near future, I could possibly sleep longer than a 3 hour stretch at a time, before I start this all over again with No. 3.



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