On Thursday night Charlotte woke up at 3 AM and stayed up.
On Friday night she woke up at 3:30 AM and stayed up.
On Saturday she did me a solid and woke up at 4. Thanks boo.
Last night? Last night she woke up at 2:30 and sent me and Eric over the edge. We are on the verge of a breakdown of all breakdowns.
When I tell you I have tried everything with this kid, I mean it. I’ve tried every piece of advice people throw at me. I’ve tried early bedtimes, later bed times, longer naps, shorter naps, cry it out, no cry it out. There is nothing I have not done. And she was doing so well for a while, even through getting her molars. But now? I have no fucking idea what to do or what is going on. She just wakes up and is ready to be AWAKE. How much more can we endure? Because I’m thinking that I can’t really take anymore or else I’m going to need a one way ticket to the mental institution because I AM LOSING IT.
This morning when she refused to even lay down and insisted on standing up in bed and trying to turn on the lights at 3:45 I told her I hated her. Who does that? Who says they hate their baby? So now I’m not only exhausted and can’t even function normally but I have so much guilt for saying those words. I know I don’t actually hate her. I hate what she’s doing to me. I hate that I have to go to work in the morning and be a functioning human in society when she wants to wake up and play when the sun is no where near rising. I hate that I can’t figure out why so many other babies sleep like normal fucking babies and my kid is 15 months old and every night is a challenge. I hate that I’ve tried so many different things and nothing works and maybe it’s just me who is failing. I hate that I feel like I am drowning and I can’t claw my way back up to the surface.
I am sorry I’m so depressing this morning. I guess this is why sleep deprivation is a torture tactic? Because it turns you into a pathetic zombie.
At least Hamilton won 11 Tony awards. At least I have that joy.