I was at the end of my rope. Our precious non-sleeping-who-once-was-a-great-sleeper Huckleberry was really, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally not sleeping. No more naps. Refusing to go down until 9 or 10 and waking almost every single hour. I was losing it, people of blogland. Losing it. Not only that but it was getting harder and harder to get him down every time he woke up and he had clearly designated 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. as time to party hard.
Did I mention I was losing it? There was one night where Huck’s cries physically hurt me I was so tired. Not only was I (am I) so exhausted that I could barely function but I was complaining. A lot. So much so that a sleep expert went to my profile and hunted down my email and emailed me. An Angel. She explained she had been following my tweets over the last (months) couple of days and asked if she could help me. I couldn’t type YES fast enough.
I checked her out of course. One doesn’t just accept random strangers telling one what to do with one’s precious Huckleberry, know what I mean?
We’re still in the trenches, I am not going to lie…but we are a few days in and guess what? He napped. He slept. He woke up…and went back to sleep. Progress people. It’s being made.
And now…to get ME to sleep. Maybe she has some advice for me.