I used to love Richard Marx when I was in high school … so poetic, romantic, great melodies … aaah. Those endless summer nights he wrote about sounded so warm, romantic and dreamy, alone with a loved one, the evening stretching out for hours and hours ….
Essentially, that’s exactly what I’m getting to enjoy lately with a loved one! My daughter, that is. The lengthening days seem to have activated some type of biorhythmic magic in her and she seems incapable of getting to sleep much before 10. Or 11. Or midnight!! Yes, friends, you read that right.
We haven’t changed what we’re doing. We’re still a little bit lax about our routines, but we generally get home 6ish, eat by 7ish, bathe by 7:30/8ish and get her into bed. It used to work. Now it doesn’t. She will bathe (sometimes), nurse, fall asleep, crawl under the covers, nestle in … and after a brief pause to fool us into the illusion that we’ve succeeded, she will bounce up with a huge mischief grin on her face, or yell out “Mama?!”, or start kicking, or something else to let us know that the dream will not be happening tonight.
We try keeping the lights low after that, but to no avail. She will not sleep. The brief rest has given her supernatural powers. After a couple of hours of intense activity, we might try again, and we might succeed or not, but an early bedtime is not to be.
We haven’t yet figured out what else we might try. We still are not sleep trainers. Husband says more firmness and consistency are required. I hear that, I think maybe in some ways, but still, I don’t know. All I know is, without my evenings life feels way too busy and stressful and things I need to get done don’t get done. I also know that she is incredibly cute and sweet and wonderful, and I do kind of love these extra hours with her. Until I crash from exhaustion, that is.