Sigh...

I gave in.


I'm exhausted.


But most imperatively, Tate is exhausted. And he is not himself.  He whines at the drop of a hat.  He throws things.  He's antsy.  And he's not happy.


Because he's exhausted.


He woke up at 3:33am just tossing and turning.  I brought him into bed with me.  He still fussed, all in his sleep, but finally dozed off around 4:15 by my recollection.


He was up at 5:18am, but whiny and fussy.  That is not his normal MO when he wakes up.  He always, and I mean always wakes up happy.


Not today.


Oh and I must say yesterday we were both not at our best.  He did nap, but fitfully.  And had a hard time going to sleep last night.  We were both beyond cranky.


This is not worth it.  I am not the person and certainly not the mother I want to be.


He is the not the child he used to be.


As a kid who never slept alot to begin with, the last thing he needs is less sleep and for that sleep to be shitty.


So, today.


We went to Gymboree for over an hour.  He ran, jumped, played and had fun.  We went to Whole Foods.  He should have been exhausted.


He piddled with lunch, which by the way he has not been eating well all week.  He is subsisting on yogurt and milk.  Dinners are worse.


I rocked him for 20 minutes for his nap.  He swore up and down he didn't want to take a nap.  Wouldn't lay his head on my shoulder, wouldn't relax. I finally put him in his crib.


He got up after I'd been gone about 5 minutes and went into a 22 minute diatribe of some sort.  Complete with yelling my name, finger wagging and pointing, throwing everything out of the crib.  Jumping up and down, racing back and forth, shaking the bed.  And a litany of what I'm sure are toddler curses.

Oh and he threw the hippo first.


I went upstairs and he mumbled something under his breath when I walked in.  I picked him up to try to rock him again.  He was just furious.  I had one pacifier with me.


I gave it to him.


He grabbed his hippo.


He was asleep within 2 minutes.


Sigh.


I feel like I'm letting everyone down here.


My child.
Myself.
My family and friends.
My patients.


For whatever reason I feel stupid that I couldn't do this.


Like people are going to shake their heads and say 'Really Jennifer? Really?  You're the one always saying how bad pacifiers are.'


Yes, they are.


Look what they've done to me and my sweet child.


But no matter how guilty I feel, I feel worse that my child is suffering.  And not so much from not having the pacifier, but because he needs some sleep.


8 hours at most a night isn't enough for a 29 month old.  With only 75-90 minutes of sleep during the day.  Not enough.


Am I justifying giving in?


I just don't think so.  But I don't know.  I could deal with him crying himself to sleep.  I could deal with getting up and rocking him at night back to sleep.  I could deal with him being so very sad.  I could deal with him sleeping with me (I love that anyway!!).


I can't deal with him being so angry all day long and so whiny from the lack of sleep.  It doesn't seem healthy.


I'll see what tonight brings.  I don't intend to give him the sue-y tonight.  We'll get started on the bedtime routine early and just rock away.


Strangely I don't feel guilty for giving it to him.  I am out of sorts because I don't want the judgement from others that I couldn't 'stick to it'.  


But you know what.


I don't care.


Tate is MY child.  And I know what's best for MY child.  


And that will directly affect how I treat my patients.  They know their kids.  So yes you should take that pacifier away before the age of 1.  Yes you should.  And I can unequivocally tell them why.  And if they opt to wait until 2 1/2 I'll understand now that it's not just about 3-4 nights of little sleep.  Because really and truly I just thought we'd have a few bad nights;  it never dawned on me or occurred to me that it would change so much of his behavior to be that sleep deprived.  


Now I know.


And I can do better.  Better by my patients.


Better by my son.