…in the Little Viking House.
Sleep. It’s easy, right? You get tired, yawn a few times, close your eyes and fall asleep. You don’t need to pass any exams in order to do it. Piece of cake.
Nope. Not when you’re a baby. The Little Viking spends two or more hours every evening crying and screaming at ultrasonic levels because he can’t master this simple act. During the day, no problem. Bedtime, problem.
It’s only when sleep becomes difficult that you realise how important good sleep actually is. Sleep deprivation is a fast-track route to declining mental health, which is why I’m glad Little Viking then sleeps from around 10.30pm until 3, even 4 am, and then again until around 7. In fact, the only time he’s properly awake for more than an hour at a time is that witching period of the early evening. So, however draining it is hearing him cry (and, after the umpteenth soothing period has failed and he ends up crying even when you’re holding him, you end up having to leave him to it or cry yourself), it could be worse.
I hate hearing him upset and not being able to do anything to fix his problem. My perfectionism cries out too. All those negative “should” thoughts creep in. Am I feeding him enough? Am I feeding him too much? Is he overtired? Is he too awake and actually wants to play? Am I ever going to get to finish a cup of tea?