Maybe it’s because I’m a young first time mom without years and years of life experience, enough at least, to give me the wisdom I need for this gig, because good God motherhood can be incredibly straining on all fronts -emotionally, physically, mentally, you name it.
And that’s easily the understatement of the year.
It’s easier to focus on the beautiful aspects of motherhood because they are comforting and filled with the warmth of love at its essence, but then there are the moments of frustration and overwhelming “WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON!”-ness that takes over.
Friday night was one of those moments.
Before I explain what happened, let me preface and say that Aiman normally takes two naps a day -one in the early afternoon and another in the early evening- and if he sleeps for about two hours both times, then all goes well for bed time.
Normally.
Friday night he went down for his 5:30 nap and instead of waking up two hours later, slept until Sa’ad and I went to slept round 11ish.
“Hmm, maybe I should wake him up now” I thought around 7:00pm
“Pppsshht! I am not asking for a grumpy baby this evening, one that might turn into an overtired baby all because I did something stupid like wake him up” I quickly corrected myself.
Besides, number one rule is: Never wake a sleeping baby.
So I let him sleep thinking he would wake up ANY MINUTE NOW.
“ANY MINUTE NOW” turned into an hour, then two, then three whole hours later with me clenching a bottle in one hand and ready to rush upstairs before I realized that he was going to sleep for the rest of the night. But I was nervous because if he DID wake up,then he would stay awake for at least 2-3 hours before going back to bed, meaning someone (me) was going to have to stay up with him. And I hate doing that because mama needs her sleep too.
At any rate, like I mentioned earlier Aiman woke up around 11 or 12 midnight and was ready for the day. But you know what, little guy?! It isn’t daytime. Oh, no, no, no. It’s nighty-nighty time babycakes; it’s time to go back to sleep.
After a good stretch he squealed “Gaaaaaaah! Mamaaadaama?”
Saad and I looked at each other and had the same thought in our head: “Please, for the love of all things good in this world, PUH-LEASE, go back to sleep!”
“No baby, it’s time to sleep. Nighty-night!”
He screamed “NUUUUUUUH!” (no) and gleefully cried out “Dadadadadada“
Oh dear God help us. He’s not going back to sleep and it’s 12:30 and we were just about to lay our heads down!
I didn’t realize how exhausted I was and was knocked out for about two hours while Saad tried to shush him back to sleep and key word here is “tried”. Around 2 am I am smacked awake by a tiny hand and let me just say that when he slaps, it HURTS! I don’t care how small his hand is, kid is sort of big for his age and packs enough pain behind a punch.
“OUCH!”
“Mama?” He giggled.
“Yes love, but no hitting. It’s sleeping time. Let’s go to sleep.” I shushed him and began singing his favorite lullaby.
But then he started to converse with me in whispers.
“Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top….”
“Gaaahmamadadammadguuuu” he hushed.
“When the wind blows the cradle will rock…”
“Nuhguugugumaadaduu”
“When the bow breaks the cradle with fall…”
Then he screamed “MAAAAAAAAH! DADADADAD! ADDDA, ADDDA, ADDA!”
“Good Lord Aiman! GO.TO.SLEEP.” I foolishly said in a stern voice. To an 11 month old. To a baby, but my patience was tapped.
“Maaa?“ he laughed.
Defeated.
I turned over and hoped that he’d understand that wasn’t time to play right now, but he didn’t pick up the hint.
*SMACK* right on my face.
“What the $%#$” I opened my eyes and there was my child smiling at me. Apparently he climbed on my back and had his leg resting on my neck when he wanted to get my attention. With a smack.
“Aiman. Stop hitting me. C’mon let’s go to sleep.” Really, at this point, I’m pretty angry because I just want to sleep, Aiman SHOULD BE sleeping, his slapping hands are bruising my face, AND? Sa’ad is still asleep.
I just hate suffering alone, so if I can’t sleep then you sure as hell won’t be either dear husband.
I scooped Aiman up and tucked him into my chest hoping he’ll get comfortable enough to doze off. But then he did something I absolutely hate -slobbering on my neck. EWH.
“Saad. Saad!”
“aslfmnioeoahdg” Saad muffled.
“Saad!” I put Aiman on him “Here, it’s your turn, he won’t sleep for me.”
Side note: Saad can put Aiman to sleep much faster and with less crying involved on both parties than I.
Saad sighed like he was so tired from sleeping.
When Aiman screamed I took him back and cradled him with no avail. Saad tried to take him, but Aiman was literally frolicking all over the bed and both of our patience was running out. Finally in a last desperate attempt, Saad and I boxed Aiman into a space between us with our bodies and let him play by himself. Trouble is, he climbed over us like a pro and threatened to get close to the edge, literally hanging one hand over and saying “Maaaaaa“.
This continued throughout the whole night and Aiman seemed to gain energy and momentum as the night passed. He would cuddle into me, then push away, smack me, then hug me, kick into my C-section scar, then blow raspeberries into the soft doughy-ness of my belly, pull my hair and poke into my eyes over and over again throughout the night.
What drove me nuts more than anything was that he left Saad alone the whole night, but wouldn’t give me more than 2 minutes of rest at a time.
I mean, how much more punishment do I have to take!? Was pregnancy, labor, and months of sleep deprivation NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU, motherhood!? DO I HAVE TO BE KICKED IN THE GUT AND HAVE MY HAIR AND EYES PULLED OUT TOO?!
Finally at some point Saad took him downstairs and played with him until he was tired enough to sleep and let me get 3 solid hours of shut-eye.
Dear husband, you have redeemed yourself.
So lessons learned:
- Aiman will not sleep past 6 or 7pm for a nap under any circumstance
- SCREW THE NUMBER ONE RULE.
They say love is blind, and I suppose that’s true since I’m blind in both eyes now from a night of eye gouging.
