Wednesday 16 October 2013

Super Sleep Fighter

My wife and I have been living in a miasma of smug for the past 5 months. When people asked us if we were getting enough sleep, if Benny was waking us often, we would smile a little smug smile and tell them that actually he sleeps through the night. He's a great sleeper and only really rolls over to pop a boob in his mouth. It's fantastic and we're both sleeping relatively well, in fact Sher sleeps far more than me because Carys calls  for me once a night just for a chat.

However the smug has begun to lift just recently; when bedtime rolls around now our sweet wee chublet, Benny is temporarily displaced possibly hurled into a parallel universe and replaced by an alternate version of himself - The Banshee Baby. Banshee Baby screams and cries like he's being flayed alive by the Inquisition, then brutally murdered by Jack The Ripper. Banshee Baby wiggles and squirms like a dying centipede. Banshee Baby flails his arms and kicks his legs with such vigour he could take flight if we let him go. Bashee Baby is a world class planker, able to go from soft and squishy yumminess to Oak rigidness in the blink of an eye. Banshee baby is a chameleon with a colour spectrum disorder, going from cute baby pinkness to angry beet red in just one held breath. Banshee Baby is a Super Sleep Fighter.

It turns bedtime into hell. When 7pm rolls it all starts and will go on and on and on for a minimum of 45 minutes. We use all the tricks, he's too old for swaddling, but we still put him on his side, shush, swing, and let him suck on a boob or bottle. None of it works anymore. He just cycles through the various Banshee Baby tricks. It's tiresome, grating, irritating and totally deflating. Every night I put the Banshee to bed instead of my wee Benny I come out feeling like a failure as a parent. It's not unusual for both Benny and I to be dripping in sweat by the time he goes to sleep. When he's being a Banshee all I want to do squeeze him till his wee head pops off, and I don't mean I'm violent with him but the urge to do something - ANYTHING - to stop him crying is absolutely primal and comes deep down from my exhausted, irritable Caveman self. So I'm not just fighting Benny I'm also fighting myself, conciously stopping myself from holding him too tight or making sudden movements that will likely scare the crap out of Benny and make things worse. I never, ever want to hurt my kids, I don't believe in hitting your kids as punishment and I sure as hell don't believe they should be frightened of you or by you at anytime, let alone at bedtime when they often feel most vulnerable. So when Benny does get scared by something I do, I stop everything I'm doing and start all over again feeling like a total, utter wastrel of a person, undeserving of such a wonderful little boy as I have. When Benny does the long silent cry, tears rolling down his face, I just want a do over to take back everything I've done to upset him. But I can't. Instead I accept that I've probably screwed up and start over, calm and controlled.

I've had to relearn how to put my baby to sleep; I'm much better at it now than I was. I'm calm, relaxed and gentle and unsurprisingly Benny goes to sleep much faster. He's still a Banshee Baby, but the Banshee is cast out far more quickly now. As stressful and trying as bedtime can be, I still wouldn't trade it for anything. For all the stress, anxiety and feelings of failure I may experience as a parent; they are totally and blindingly eclipsed by the unreserved love I have for and receive from my kids. They make everything feel better, they are the ultimate cure all; if I could bottle just how good they make me feel I could sell it and pay off the U.S. debt. There is no emotion stronger than the feeling of love and pride for your child, and it really isn't something you can understand until you're a parent. So I may put a banshee to bed most nights, I may feel awful as a parent, but that's completely erased in the morning when Benny presses the reset button by giving me the hugest smile and giggles the moment he sees my face. In those moments, everything is worthwhile, everything is forgiven and I know I'll do it as many times as needed because I love him with every part of my being and so much more. He's my wee man and I'm still a smug parent, just for different reasons now.