So, I was gearing up to write a post about how my sleep transmissions have finally paid off. You know, the hypnotic mutterings I pipe directly into August’s ears when he’s in a receptive state. “You are verrrrry sleeeeepy. You will not wake until mooooorning. If you do, you will falllll asleep again…”

I backed up up these transmissions with a portable Sleep Sheep for additional sleepy insurance — Stream! Rain! Ocean! Whale Songs! (August’s favorite, of course, is whale songs) — and I spent hours dangling over the side of the crib soothing my beloved with restful tummy rubs and head strokes. Plus, there was the pacifier.

And you know what? It paid off. Really it did. August began sleeping great big long stretches that filled his mother’s eyes with tears of gratitude. Indeed, after a late-night feed at 11 p.m., he’d close his eyes and not open them until a reasonable — even alarming — 6.30 a.m. or 7 a.m. It made me want to sing with the angels. Tra-la-laaaaah!

AND THEN…one night, it changed. He fussed at bedtime. His eyes sprang open. He snarled. Two nights ago, the hourly wake-up calls began at 2 a.m. I shushed August with my eyes closed. I dangled over that crib. We played whale songs at unprecedented levels. “August,” I said, “We need to talk.”

The following morning, I was the walking dead. After five non-consecutive hours of fake sleep, I felt like I’d flown twice around the world holed up in an economy seat and just woken up to 12-hours-worth of jetlag. I was so fried, I could have slipped unnoticed onto the McDonald’s dollar menu.

Last night the shouts began at 1.30 a.m. I went into the nursery. I shushed and patted. And it occurred to me (or rather, it occurred to Michael) that maybe, just maybe, he was suffering another teeny tiny cold. Out came the elephant trunk and we rooted around in his nose for a while. And before you could say, “snot!” he was asleep. He woke up at 6.30.

Chance?
Luck?
A legitimately blocked nose?

Only tonight will tell… stay tuned!

Tags: Health, Sleeping