Ten minutes or less: The amount of time you have before your toddler is attacked by another coughing fit, ripping them (and you) from a much needed sleep. More likely to occur the second you or your spouse crawls into bed.
Yes, the Lil Diva has fallen victim to the dreaded Coughing Fits Guaranteed to Interfere with Sleep.
Every day since Monday, I lay my exhausted baby down for a nap. I rush to make my lunch, or do whatever it is I haven’t been able to.
Before ten minutes pass, the tell tale sounds of body wracking coughs trickle over the baby monitor, followed by her cries of frustration, wrenched from sleep again.
Bed time brings a similar pattern. An hour will pass with the ten minute interruptions. She quiets as I pat her back. The moment I’ve returned downstairs, the coughs and cries return.
An hour might pass quietly, before resuming the pattern all over again.
Last night, her psychic powers were at full strength.
“I’m going to bed,” CG tells me as he kisses me goodnight.
“I’ll be there shortly. I just want to finish this post.”
Within minutes, the One Parent is in Bed Trying to Sleep Alarm triggers and her painful cough echoes over the monitor.
What. The. Frak.
10:50 PM until 2 AM
Exhaustion not seen since Merry Sickmas overcomes me as I alternate between a few minutes of writing, a few minutes of dashing up to comfort the Lil Diva following nasty coughing fits, and instant messages expelling my frustrations.
I’m still trying to finish the post I began five hours ago that should have taken no more than an hour. Every muscle cries for sleep but the Mommy on High Alert Mode would not let me rest. Sure enough, after forty-five minutes of silence, the coughing begins again, for another thirty minute cycle.
The words blur. The post is almost done. I have to reread each line three times before it sinks in. I fear typos.
She coughs. She moans. She quiets.
I hit publish and pray my story makes more sense to those who are coherent.
I crawl into bed, insert ear plugs, and put on head phones. I send CG a message on Facebook to wake me up by 9 AM, because I have a haircut at 10.
CG is on duty now.
The sun is up. CG is still in bed. Of course, now Lil Diva sleeps. I close my eyes.
I wake up. I see the time.
“Why didn’t you wake me at 9? I sent you a message!”
“I figured if you were still sleeping at 9, you really needed it.”
Too true. But still. “I have a haircut in ten minutes. Our neighbor will be here shortly.”
A knock on the door a minute later, as my incredibly awesome neighbor arrives.
I can’t find my wallet.
I grab a checkbook and race out the door.
I’m fifteen minutes late.
I go for a “safe” cut, because choices about drastic haircuts should never be decided after only 5 hours of sleep… multiplied over five nights.
I LOVE my hair cut.
My Lil Diva naps. For the first time all week without it taking place on my lap.
Tonight? I hope to be in bed by 10 PM. CG will be on duty as I hopefully grab ten uninterrupted hours of sleep.
Of course, I’m sure another “what the frak” moment is just waiting to happen.
And on cue, the Lil Diva’s psychic ears burn.
Nap time is over.
Happy frakking Friday, all!
What happened this week that made you say “What the frak?!”