Batten down the hatches

Pull up a chair. Have some cheese. I've got the whine.

I can tell already this is going be one of those posts that gets the "Best intentions" tag. That one goes on plans I make and tell you about so that you can all point and laugh two weeks later when things go horribly, predictably awry. Or the next day, even. But if you never even try, you definitely won't get anywhere, I suppose.

Two nights ago was a bad night for Mabel. I happened to look at the clock at the relevant times and discovered that I left my own bed to go to her at 12.00, 2.00 and 4.00. I came back to my own bed at 1.00 and 3.00. And I wouldn't like you to think we were all sleeping soundly from 4am until reluctant waking up at 8.00. No, she was probably latched on again from 5.00 to 6.00 or so, before getting up and leaving me in blessed, blessed peace, around 7.00.

To be honest, that was pretty standard except that usually I don't stay awake enough at 3am to do anything as active as bothering to get myself up and trot down the hall to my own bed. But sometimes she's hogging the whole (twin) mattress and the call of the cool sheets on my side of the big (queen) bed is a siren song. I know I'm lucky to be able to be able to go back to sleep - usually - pretty quickly every time - this situation couldn't possibly have persisted if that wasn't the case.

Last night, then, there was something in the air, or the water. Maybe there was a full moon. Maybe it was because of the equinox. More likely it was the incipient thunder, but a lot of people on my Facebook feed this morning seemed to be complaining about how badly their kids had slept. Dash, my great sleeper, woke twice with a bad dream. The first time, I had just come back from Mabel and was able to lie down with him for a few minutes until he dropped off again. The second time, I had to call in reinforcements because I was already dealing with Mabel again, so I'm not sure how long that took. (There was a third time, but apparently I dreamed that one. I could have sworn I heard him call out, heard him get out of bed and come down the hall, and I was already flapping a hand at him to warn him not to wake his precariously asleep sister when I opened my eyes and found he wasn't actually standing beside me at all.)

Mabel, having gone to bed early at 7pm after no nap, had woken as usual at 9.45 and gone back to sleep easily enough. Then she woke around midnight and - well, it all gets fuzzy, but at some point much later it felt like she'd been latched on all night and it crossed my mind that perhaps she was hungry. "Are you hungry, Mabel?" I asked. She nodded. "Mummy, I'm huuuungry!" You could have told me two hours ago and saved us all that not-sleeping, you know? I went downstairs and got her a waffle. At least it was only 3.15 and not 5am as I'd feared. She gobbled up a frozen waffle in the dark, whispering something about Goldilocks and the three bears to her doll as it went, and of course then she was wide awake, wanting water and stories and Daddy and to go downstairs and play there...

I got her to lie down and have some more mumeet and she was out in pretty short order. So we all went to sleep ... until the thunder rolled in around 5am and the rain around 6 and though the kids were asleep, I heard it all so I don't think I was, entirely.

Coming back from school this morning, I told Mabel that mumeet at night was going to have to stop. That I would gladly let her have some before bed, and again when she wakes up in the morning, and that someone will go in and lie down with her to help her get back to sleep, but the all-night buffet is closing down. I asked her if she'd rather Daddy went into her or I did, when she woke in the night but wasn't getting mumeet, and she opted for Daddy. I think this is because she expects Daddy to read her stories at 4am, and she'll get a bit of a shock when all he wants to do is turn over and go back to sleep.

I was surprised that she agreed, and I know she'll be eating her words tonight when I try to enforce it, but it had to happen some time, and we'll see how it goes. Maybe two bad nights in a row have worn me down enough to help me stay strong in the face of full-force Hurricane Mabel. Maybe our success with cutting out daytime nursing will convince both of us that I can say no and she can learn to live with it. But it's going to be hard, and there will be tears, and I just hope we don't wake the neighbours.