I'm behind, again.

I have finally managed to get Tama to have his day time sleeps in his bed. Hooray we all say.

But lets examine this more closely.

Before: Tama needed to sleep. I fed him. He went to sleep.

Opt 1: Put Tama in bed, Tama wakes up immediately. Tama misses out on much needed sleep. Tama ends up chronically tired by end of day. Tama takes forever to get down for night. Gypsy nearly has mental breakdown (the minor sort- not the pysch help needed sort.)

Opt 2. Gypsy stays on couch with sleeping Tama. Tama gets sleep. Gypsy loses 3+ hours of day to sitting under hot sweaty baby. Tama goes to bed nicely at 7:30pm. Nothing gets done. Unless Gypsy stays up really late. Gypsy gets chronically tired. Gypsy nearly has mental breakdown (the minor sort- not the pysch help needed sort.)

Now: Tama needs to sleep. I feed him. I make him stay awake. I put him in bed and sit with him sometimes for almost an hour. Tama goes to sleep. I stay an extra 5 minutes just to make sure. I rush around like a madwoman getting Will snacks, sweeping-the-god-damned-floor, and various other necessary and unnecessary (blogging and anything to do with photos- the stuff that keeps me sane- oh wait- does that make them necessary?) jobs. Tama wakes at the 42 minute point. I spend 15 or so minutes patting him back to sleep. 5 minutes just making sure. And then rush around again. Tama wakes at the 42 minute mark. I congratulate him on what a fantastic job of sleeping he has done. Afternoon naps are more complicated by school runs, outings and unplanned sleeps in the car. Either way it takes longer to get him settled. And he sleeps less.

****F%$#!******** Can you guess? He woke up, not 15 minutes into the first sleep of the day. It took 25 minutes to get him back to sleep again!

So where were we? Yes afternoons are average to poor. And that leads to evenings. The last couple of nights I have left him after an hour of wailing (him) and patting and singing (me). I've left him still crying and Les has taken over the patting and singing. I've walked out of the room both fuming mad, and desperately contemplating a long walk off a short pier, quite possibly with the baby in arms.  And of course exhausted, too tired to even contemplate watching TV let alone doing something useful or even enjoyable I might as well go to bed except I want so much to be able to do something that I want to do. Read: Gypsy nearly has mental breakdown (the minor sort- not the pysch help needed sort.)

Will needs a snack. 

I have to go.

This is probably one of the most depressing blog posts I have ever written, I'd like to say there's some redemption, a silver lining, or happy ending. So that if some other desperate mother at the end of her parenting rope who has stumbled upon this as she sits weary under a sleeping baby doesn't just find a kindred spirit but also finds hope.

I'm sorry honey. There is no hope here, all hope is lost.

Let's just cling teeth gritted and fingernails digging in to the lift raft that is "This too will pass."

Eventually.

I hope.