It's been a rough few weeks in casa de Oscarelli, sleep-wise. If I'm being totally honest, things are never perfect sleep-wise, but they are usually tolerable. Usually, one boy wakes up every other night. Not ideal, but okay. These past few weeks? Not tolerable.
It started last week when both boys got screaming high fevers (Miles was 104.8 and Oscar was 103.8.) They were quite the sick little boys. The fevers lasted 3 days, and of course were not concurrent. Nope, my boys prefer to stagger their illness to maximize exhaustion and miserable days for children and parents alike.
So, they were sick. And, obviously with fevers that high, they were waking in the night. And this is not their fault. Nelson and I were up up and down all night for several nights in a row. At least one boy would be up and unable to sleep, and several nights it was both boys. Many of these nights both boys ended up in our bed.
It is crowded and I sleep horribly. Miles tosses and turns; Oscar's blanket smells like death; both boys end up on "my side" of the bed, so I have maybe six inches in which to cram my (not at all small) self.
They've both been recovered for a week, and nearly every single night, one of them has woken up. Oscar will just wander into our room and crawl into our bed. It's not the worst, but it's not awesome either. Miles on the other hand wakes up and refuses to go back to sleep. That? The worst. After an hour of rocking he'll end up in our bed where he'll proceed to toss and turn and throw his body about violently, inevitably resulting in a collision between his (very hard) head and my face.
All of this on top of the fact that Oscar has decided he cannot fall asleep without Nelson or I lying in bed with him, and the fact that if Oscar naps for so much as 10 minutes he won't fall asleep until after 10PM. It's a bit much.
And you know, it is what it is. I'm not asking for solutions, or really even sympathy (okay, I'll take a little sympathy) I'm just tired.
This morning I woke absolutely unrested. We did eventually get both boys back in their own room, but it was too late. Nelson and I lost hours and hours of sleep. I've been stumbling through this morning, drinking cup after cup of coffee.
Then, about an hour ago, it occurred to me: This time is not infinite, this time where they wake at night and come to me for comfort. This time where they long to be close to me, where they steal kisses from me in the night and snuggle in closer and closer. This time is but a teeny, tiny fraction of their childhood; and even smaller fraction of their lives.
Ten years from now I'll have to remind them to kiss me goodbye as they rush out the door to catch the bus and ask them to snuggle closer while they tell me about their day. They will confide in friends before they look to me for comfort. They will get lost in books for hours or prefer to play video games as opposed to playing trains with their mom. They will need me less and less as the years go by.
I'll long for the days when I was their center. I will miss this time when little boys filled my bed with their flailing limbs and smelly blankets. I really, really will.